Thy Will Be Done
by KalliopeKore
Summary: Final installment of The Will Trilogy, ('The Will of Jennifer Keller' and 'Where There is a Will'). The Journey of the Herald is upon them. To defeat the Wraith, they'll have to see it through, but they couldn't predict where it would take them, or what it might cost. Established R/K, but plenty of everyone. Come on along and see how the Journey ends.
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome to the final installment of the Will Trilogy. Couldn't escape the voices in my head anymore, and had to get it down on paper._ _We're pretty far off canon here, so if you haven't read 'The Will of Jennifer Keller' or 'Where there is a Will' it might be worth taking a read._ _If you have read them, then you have my gratitude._ _We pick up our story a couple of months after the revelation that Jennifer is the Herald, just as the Herald's Journey is about to begin._ _Come along for the ride._ _Give it a chance._ _And review if you can to let me know you are out there._ _Would love your feedback. –Kalli (PS – I'm not a medical professional, scientist, or soldier._ _You may need to suspend some disbelief) Here we go..._

"What.. is this?" Jennifer asked while Sam and Lorne smiled.

"It's your new uniform," Sam explained.

"I have a uniform," Jennifer reminded them. "A whole set of them."

"Yes," Lorne answered, "you do, but they are yellow stripes."

Jen nodded at the obvious.

"Because I am medical personnel."

"But not right now, and there is no official Herald designation category, so we had them make one for you," Sam said as she handed the stack of clothing to Jennifer.

Purple. Apparently the Herald color was purple. It was a bunch of purple t-shirts, tank tops, and uniform jackets and tops with a deep purple strip running across the back. Jennifer looked at the items.

"Was this really necessary?" Jennifer asked them dubiously.

"Lorne wanted to get baseball hats made. This is way better."

"That's not what I was saying," Lorne protested.

"You wanted to have Team Herald hats made. True or False?"

Lorne moved closer to Jennifer. "Don't listen to her. Her memory can be a little wonky."

"What was that, Major?"

"Nothing, ma'am."

The banter made Jennifer laugh. It was taking some of the anxiety about starting the Herald's Journey in earnest and channeling it into something else. Anything else. She had begged them to let her do this. She couldn't be the reluctant one.

Jennifer made Lorne avert his eyes and pulled off the grey shirt she wore with the yellow tripe and replacing it with the new one.

Time to be the Herald.

Even if she didn't know entirely what that meant.

"There," Lorne said when he was allowed to turn back around. "That's more like it."

The rest of Team Herald entered the large room in an out of the way location. Close enough to be easy to get to, but off the beaten path so that people wouldn't wander over by accident. The room had been secured to only open for people assigned to the Herald Mission, and the room had been organized with a makeshift team meeting table, and storage space and workstations for research and testing.

It had taken a while to get organized. After the return from Keltiga , and the public wedding celebration for Ronan and Jen, they all took a deep breath. Jennifer needed it more than anyone. But then the draw of the Journey kicked in, and planning started in earnest.

Then there was the matter of personnel. Given the stakes and the circumstance, a Herald mission couldn't be like any other mission.

Then they had to come to some agreement with SGC and the IOA on how this would work.

They lost weeks in that part of the process alone.

But they were finally ready.

If the rest of the missions worked like Keltiga, once the team was through the Atlantis gate for a Herald world, they were on their own. There was no way for Atlantis to send back up. That made for some extra planning. They would likely make first contact and have to make decisions without a chance to discuss it as a group, and so some Rules of Engagement needed to be laid down. It was Sam who kicked off the meeting.

"Since we don't know how many Journey worlds there are, or how many times we will need to go to any particular place, a schedule is sort of useless. Colonel Sheppard signed off on a list of personnel that will make the pool the team is chosen from. First contact will be teams of eight. Jennifer and Ronon always gate together. No exceptions."

The room already knew that. Jennifer had made it clear she wanted Ronon on every mission. Ronon had made it very clear, too.

"We will plan for Teyla to take every mission she is available for. Sheppard, Lorne, and Abatello – only ever two of you at a time at most. Someone has to keep an eye on the city."

The men all nodded their head.

"We'll take two marines to round out the team. Meyers and Matthews will be primary, and we have four others that are approved to rotate in if needed."

"Scientists?" Zelenka asked.

"Not on first contacts. We'll bring science support for the return mission to any location."

McKay pouted.

"We have no idea what is on the other side of these gates, so alert. Cautious. Observant. On missions, Dr. Keller is the Herald. The less they know about her and the more shrouded in mystery she is the better that will work for us, we think. No Jennifer. No Doc. Herald."

Everyone nodded.

"Nice shirt, Herald," Matthews said dramatically, eliciting laughter from the group and a genuine smile from Jen.

"Our goal is three days for first contact. Get there, get the lay of the land, meet and greet and then home. I image second contact for any Herald world will be determined by complexity and circumstance. Did I miss anything, Colonel?" Sam asked, deferring to John.

"Based on our experience with Keltiga, it's important that Dr. Keller has the authority in the group. If a situation goes tactical for any reason, you better be listening to the military lead, but short of that, Doc calls the shots."

"Right. Gate time tomorrow is 1100 hours. Major Lorne is military lead for the mission. See everyone then."

The group filed out, Jennifer grabbing her new stack of clothes and heading back to her quarters to deposit them. Sheppard and Lorne loitered just a few minutes until everyone but Sam had left.

"We ready?" John asked her.

"As ready as we're going to be. Jennifer has been ready, then not ready, and working her way back again. I think the best thing is to kick this off and see what happens."

John and Evan agreed.

"Have you heard anything from SGC about Dr. Feist?" Lorne asked Sam.

John's face tightened at the name, and Sam shook her head.

"No. She's just gone."

John's frustration wasn't far beneath the surface.

"How exactly does one go missing from a Military Prison? Has anyone figured that out?"

"With help," Sam answered. "I spoke to General O'Neill yesterday. Speculation on Air Force side is that she had inside help."

"Who would help her?" Lorne exploded. "She plays mental games with our CMO and with a top-notch marine – O'Neill's godson, by the way - screws it up, puts their lives in danger, and someone helped her escape?"

"It has IOA written all over it," John said. "Maybe the Staunton/ Jarrick mission wasn't as rogue and unsanctioned as they insisted."

"They'll find her," Sam assured the men.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"I can feel them look at me differently," Jennifer said uncomfortably.

Ronon didn't bother to look around. He never lost the habit of being hyper-aware of his surroundings. He knew where everyone was without having to turn his head. And he knew that many glances were being directed at them while they ate their meal. So he just kept looking at Jennifer.

The real Journey of the Herald started tomorrow. She had been anxious to get the trips going, wanting to speed up preparations and a rough gate schedule and get the journey underway. Now that she had what she asked for, it appeared that desire had changed. She was anxious; withdrawn from most, except Ronon, who by sheer force of love and will kept her close.

"It isn't you."

He saw her furrow her brow in either deep thought or disagreement.

"What else could it be?" she asked.

"They don't look at you any different. The difference is in themselves."

His explanation hadn't helped. She didn't look convinced, so he explained.

"That table behind me – that's a table of soldiers who weren't chosen. Some of them have gone on missions with you since you arrived. They laughed with you; consider themselves friends. But they weren't the best. Only the best were chosen. Not getting assigned to Team Herald, or whatever Lorne is calling it, tells people something about themselves, not about you."

The reference to Team Herald made Jennifer crack a smile.

"That table over there is some of your staff. They worked side by side with you and never knew. They didn't see your distress when Jarrick was here, they didn't figure out there was a gene that made you different; they didn't help you when Abatello took you. It isn't you that are different to them - they fear they are different to you."

Jennifer's eyes drifted to a table far to their right, landing on Sheppard and Lorne in a serious conversation.

"They should be the least affected, but they seem so tense," Jennifer noted.

"Because there is only one Herald. There is no completing the Journey if anything happens to you. There is no getting back to Atlantis if anything happens to you. There is no defeating the Wraith if anything happens to you."

"But they have always done that. They've always protected me, always brought me home. Why would tomorrow be any different?" Jennifer protested.

"They are asking something above and beyond of you, and they don't want to let you down."

He said nothing else to give her time to consider his words. They disposed of their trays and made their way back to their quarters.

"How about you? Do you feel any different?" she asked him.

"Not at all," he said with complete confidence.

"Oh yeah?"

"You were already the only you in this or any other universe. I'd already give anything to keep you safe, do anything to find you, kill anyone that would harm you. So tomorrow we go through the gate, and nothing will have changed."

"I love you, Ronon," barely made it out before she crushed her body into his, demanding to be held and reassured without words. And he did. He held her, rubbing his strong hands against her shoulder blades. He would do anything to protect her; anything to keep her safe.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Banks watched the comings and goings in the mess hall. Just like every meal for his first two weeks on Atlantis, he carefully scanned the room.

Finding people in this city was actually harder than he thought, especially if they were assigned to the secretive Herald missions that were about to dominate the mission schedule. Hard to get good face time with his superior officers and make a good impression. Hard to find time to scout the alien everyone said would kick his ass in training.

Hard to find his target.

His instructions had been very specific: getting it right was more important than getting it done quickly. He was to wait until the perfect opportunity presented itself. He would likely only get one chance. He had to get them alone. Hard to do when you barely see someone, and when you do, they are always surrounded.

He shrugged his shoulders and sat down with members of his squad. The money was already in his bank account. He had all the time in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

John sat in his office alternately tapping each end of a pencil on his desk at an increasing rate.

Trust was a unique concept. For him there were a lot of things that you could fake. But what you trust? There's really only one way to show that – you have to do it.

Lorne was an exceptional second in command. He walked a line that others found challenging: approachable with the military personnel but also able to lay down the law. It's easy when people are coming to you with real tragedies and drama sob stories to get pulled into the quagmire, or go soft. Lorne never did. Combine that with his ability to read John's mind in tactical situations and his willingness to do John's paperwork and they made a great team.

And John trusted him.

But John never wanted to leave the hard job to someone else. Always wanted to shield others from danger where he could. First through the gate; last home. But if you want to show someone you trust them, you need to let them do the job.

So when they planned this leg of the Herald's Journey, John let Evan lead the mission.

The only way to show them you trust them is to do it.

It seemed like a good idea in theory. But here, three days later with no way to reach them, no way to provide back up, and no idea what was happening to them it was starting to make him a crazy.

He heard the "Off-World Activation" call go out over the security channel and hit the ground running, covering the distance just as the event horizon appeared. He slid to a stop at the top of the stairs as the first of the team came through, grabbing the railing and crossing one leg as he leaned.

Maybe he could pull off casual.

Like he hadn't counted the hours the team had been gone.

Maybe.

When the entire team was through, they were joking with each other. John headed down the stairs and made eye contact with Ronon. One nod let him know Ronon was satisfied with how the mission had gone, and that was good enough. With a slap on the shoulder and a handshake he greeted Evan.

"Major, welcome back. Looks like a successful mission."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Sorry I sat this one out," he said, noting all of the smiles.

"You shouldn't be," laughed Abatello. "You didn't want any part of this one."

"Something go wrong?"

"I would not say wrong," Teyla explained. "Imagine a planet made up entirely of Rodneys and Zelenkas."

John's face registered how unpleasant that would be.

"Like he said, Colonel. You didn't want any part of that one," Lorne reiterated. "Medicals, then debrief," he called to the room. "Back in the conference room at 1600."

The group dispersed. John met up with Lorne for a quick rundown in the mess hall before the debrief, and they all gathered at the appointed time; the mission team, John, Woolsey, Carson, Rodney and Radek.

Woolsey kicked off the discussion in his usual, direct manner.

"So do we know what this planet's task was from the Ancients?"

"Well," Jen answered with almost a giggle, "not exactly."

Jennifer explained that when the Ancients went to Caledon to negotiate the task it was a very legalistic, advanced society. The specifics were captured in a written document that were signed by both parties, and were going to be put on display as a source of pride for the Caledonians. But before the document could be put on display, it was damaged – a stray ray of a laser during a prismatic energy test burned through a wall and floor and hit the document in the middle, burning a hole and singeing the paper around it.

"That could absolutely happen," Rodney confirmed.

"Well the words that were damaged were pretty critical to the process, explaining that they needed to be able to render 'something' invisible. Or invincible. They weren't sure. Not sure what the 'something' was, and not sure which task they were assigned."

"They were looking to develop either a new shield or cloak system for Atlantis," Rodney translated. "So which one did they do?"

"Both," Lorne answered.

The Invincible and the Invisible factions both began work in earnest to design, build and test their tribute to the ancients, and it became a source of significant conflict. They worked in different labs. The labs moved to different towns. The towns couldn't agree on one government, so they became two countries. It completely divided their society.

"It was most probably a shield," Rodney stated. "The defense of the city was of much higher importance."

"I wouldn't say that," responded Zelenka. "You don't have to defend what you can superiorly hide."

Jennifer shook her head and gestured at the two scientists. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you our reenactment of the Schism of Caledon. Except they have to change clothes."

"Clothes?" Woolsey asked.

"Clothes," Jennifer confirmed. "To be able to easily identify their intellectual compatriots, the Invisibles dressed in blue and the Invincibles dressed in red. Purple is outlawed in both locations. The stripe on my uniform caused quite the scandal."

"Some of the most gifted scientific minds in the galaxy and they took the time to outlaw a color?" Carson asked.

"Yeah, and when they saw the Doc's purple t-shirt they told her take it off right there at the gate," Abatello laughed. "You should have seen her face."

"Or Ronon's," Lorne added. "Crazy scientists with a death wish."

"They got over it," Ronon said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I bet they did," John responded. "So, next steps?"

"They are expecting us back in four days," Lorne answered. "They intend to hand over their tributes and hold the Choosing Ceremony."

"I want to go back and speak with them," Rodney insisted.

"Sorry, Rodney," Jennifer said. "Isn't possible."

"Oh, come on," Rodney whined. "We contact a group of actually advanced scientific minds and you aren't going to let me go?"

"Citrus groves," Sam said. The entire planet is covered with "Citrus groves."

()()()()()()

The team grabbed dinner after the debrief. Zelenka continued to pump the team for details they didn't have, and Rodney continued to complain about the existence of citrus. Ronon decided to stop into a training session with John after dinner. Three days on a planet of long winded geeks obsessed with colors and technology made his head heart. He didn't complain, though.

Jennifer was safe.

He held the warning from Mallan on Keltiga with a great deal of respect. _I fear the other stops along the Herald's Journey will not be as enlightened. There may be anger, violence._ _She may be in danger._ _Promise me you will protect her._

He was vigilant. And after three days of constantly being on guard, it was good to be home. It also left him with some pent up frustration. It was no fun scaring scientists. But staring down a new arrival who thinks he has what it takes and showing him what he has left to learn – that was a good energy release. The training took a few hours, and he only sent a handful of them to Carson.

Ronon returned to the quarters he shared with Jen, entering quietly. She had a habit of falling asleep on the couch or chair in the sitting room when he wasn't in bed. He didn't want to disturb her, but the soft light in the room revealed it to be empty. He slowly pushed open the door to their dark bedroom, hoping to use the sitting room light to highlight her form below the covers, but again he found nothing. Stepping in, he noticed the door to the balcony was open.

There, bathed in moonlight, wrapped in a towel with her wet hair clinging to her shoulders, Jennifer was admiring the view.

And he admired her.

He crossed to the balcony doorway, stopping in the frame to let her know he was there.

"I thought you'd be asleep, little one."

She half turned over her shoulder acknowledging his appearance. "Just couldn't settle."

"You should get some rest. It was a long day."

She nodded, but said nothing.

He came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling into her neck. He gently kissed her ear, and then worked his way to her shoulder, leaving light kisses along the way. Her scent, her bare shoulders in the moonlight, the soft hum she made when he kissed her – it encouraged him to continue. His hands drifted down to the end of the towel, running his hands up her legs until they rested on her ass, kneading it firmly.

She turned to him, reaching up on her tip toes to find his lips. She moved forward, nudging him backwards until he came to the lounge chair. He smiled through the kiss as he lowered himself down, stretching out his legs and reaching for her.

Jennifer started at the end of the chair, working her way up his body like a cat. When she reached his waste she nimbly unlatched his buckle and reached inside, freeing him with a groan of need. She lowered her mouth onto him, setting an uneven rhythm and taking him to varying depths, driving him wild. When he could take no more he reached down to her arms and pulled her forward, higher up his body, to kiss her and settle her beautiful hips down onto him. The sexy sound she made when he filled her made him incapable of speech.

She pulled the towel the rest of the way off her body, setting a tempo with her hips. She took every inch of him, and when her muscles started to tighten, he used his strength to push her over the edge, rising to meet her as he brought her down tightly to his body, hearing the short high pitched moan she made every time they came together. When she released she threw her head back and made his favorite sound in the universe.

"Ronon," she whispered barely recovering as he came to his own end.

He put his hand behind her neck and pulled her close for a kiss, releasing her only long enough to pull his shirt over his head and bring her close to his chest. Eventually he pulled her into a ball on his body, and using his strength, lifted her. He carried her to their bed laying her down, and then crawling under the covers beside her.


	3. Chapter 3

It was four days later that Team Herald found themselves back on Caledon and ready for the choosing ceremony. Zelenka had finagled himself an invite, much to the chagrin of Rodney. McKay had offered up several options that involved hazmat gear that were shot down by the group.

The tributes were bestowed and after Zelenka had time to speak to each team for a little background on their approach, the group made its way to the appointed location. Standing in front of the choosing stone, Jennifer put her shoulders back, looked up at the Caledon representatives and asked the question.

"Caledon, how do you choose?"

And at the same time, a man dressed in blue and a woman dressed in red both spoke.

"Isolation."

"Open the gate."

Well, Jennifer thought, she should have seen that coming. These two groups of people hadn't agreed on anything in millennia. Why should today be any different? Jen saw Lorne's head drop and shake as the appointed representatives began arguing about their choice. Jennifer stepped away from the stone to speak to Sam.

"What do I do if they can't come to agreement? We have to choose one way or the other, or the DHD at Atlantis won't let us move on to the next world."

"Let's see if Zelenka and I can help them guide their logic to a unified conclusion," Sam offered.

"And if you can't?"

"Then you will choose for them."

"I don't know – I can't be responsible for …."

"You are the Herald. Only you can make the choice if they can't do it themselves."

Jen nodded.

Sam and Zelenka convened a discussion. Two representatives from each group attended, and Jennifer presided over the proceedings. After two hours of listening to them talk over each other and yell, her frustration level reached the boiling point.

"Have you really, in the entire history of your people, never worked together for the good of your world? Never?"

The question stopped the group in its tracks. It changed the tone. It calmed the anger. And it started a very different conversation.

Four times in the last thousand years they had created what they called a Unified Discovery Panel, where four scientists from each faction came together for a very specific and scoped data exchange. It was rare, but had been done. So Jennifer demanded that they convene one immediately, and warned that by noon the next day they needed one answer to the Choosing question, or she would choose it for them.

She said it, even though she had no idea if the stone would let her do it. But they didn't need to know that yet.

They summoned their scientists and worked late into the night. They took only one break for an evening meal, which they all took together. Ronon ate but didn't settle, he and the marines guarding Jen like she was on a warrior planet. But she sat with the leaders of both factions, and Sam and Radek, and talked a little about their history.

"If I can ask," Radek opened, "what were the previous Unified Discovery Panels convened for?"

The leaders exchanged glances, nodded, and explained.

Early in the process there had been one to talk about power assumptions and requirements: were the shields and cloaks self-sustaining, did they have power restrictions, was there an unlimited power source. The second one was convened, much to the embarrassment of the Invisible faction, because a question in computing the cloak field dimension had stalled their progress and they sought assistance.

"Having others review your progress and findings is a key part of the scientific process," Sam reassured them.

The third was to explore joint interfacing for the cloak and shield. If the 'something' that they needed to protect only had one socket, was there a way to interface the solutions together so that both could be used.

"To cloak and to shield at the same time?" Zelenka asked excitedly.

And finally, they convened a UDP one hundred and eighteen years ago to talk about additional application of the technology they had advanced.

"We've included prototypes of some of the other applications – personal shields, portable shields, area cloaks with both negative image and image projection capabilities. They are in the tribute cases as well."

"It seems great things have happened when you have come together. Perhaps that could be true again, tonight and in the future," Jen encouraged them.

The heads of the two delegations excused themselves to a corner of the room to talk. It looked productive, and didn't get loud, so Jennifer was hopeful that there would an agreement in time. She didn't want to have to pick a future for these people. She wanted them to chart their own path.

Jen turned to find Ronon against the wall, looking right at her. She got up and went to him.

"I can feel your eyes on me."

"We're connected. That shouldn't be a surprise."

"It's not. It's a comfort. I can feel you inside," she said, placing his hand on her heart.

His fingers danced lightly with hers and a smile crept onto his face.

"When I can give you my full attention," he said, his eyes panning the room once and then returning to hers, "I'll make sure you feel me inside."

Jen made a needy groan and kissed his fingers. Her reply was cut off by an announcement from the heads of the delegations.

"We have reached an agreement. We will choose at sunrise."

There was a gentle round of applause in the room, and the attendees began to filter out.

"Want to go find a quiet spot out in a field, under the stars, where you can make good on your promises?"

"More than anything, Jen, but I don't want Lorne and his men watching, and if they aren't I need to be. Just wait until I get you home."

"I'll hold you to it."

"I'll hold you forever," he replied pulling her into a hug.

There was only time for a few hours of rest before the group got up and going. Standing at the Choosing Stone at sunrise, Caledon opened its gate. Jennifer completed the ceremony, and the team returned to Atlantis with the tributes and a new dagger in hand.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Sam couldn't help herself. She came by the Herald Lab, as they called it, to retrieve a notebook left earlier in the day. She found the room empty, except for Rodney, who was hard at work analyzing something at one of the workstations.

"Boo," she said, catching the scientist off guard and startling him.

"What are you doing sneaking around like that?"

"Not sneaking. You must be deep in thought."

"I'm always deep in thought," he responded.

"Whatcha looking at, Rodney?" she asked.

His hands quickly turned off the data pad, and he stepped away from the workstation and toward Sam to keep her from coming too close.

"Nothing," he answered nervously.

"Yeah, 'cause that seemed like nothing," she quipped back skeptically.

"Don't you have something else to do right now?" he questioned, but Sam was having none of it.

"I am special counsel to the Herald," she reminded him. "This is pretty much my office."

Rodney made a humph-ish noise under his breath, then grabbed the data pad and something else that he was looking at.

"That wouldn't happen to be Herald related discovery, would it, Rodney."

"I have a lot of work to do. I work on a lot of different things. It could be anything…"

"Rodney," she stopped him to save him from digging a hole for himself. "Herald stuff stays here in the Herald room. Mallan said the journey was a puzzle and we shouldn't try to figure it out until we have all the pieces. You promised you would be patient."

"Zelenka got to talk to them. He is further ahead in understanding what they did, how they did it. I need to catch up so we are ready when the time comes."

"It isn't a competition."

"That's not the point. Here in this room we have technology that is thousands of years more advanced than the technology we found here, which is thousands of years more advanced than home. We can't wait. It'll likely take us a long time to figure it all out. Isn't it easier to put all the puzzle pieces together if you have looked at them and know what they are?"

"Patience, Rodney," she said as she grabbed her notebook.

"Patience is short sighted. Sooner or later we will _need_ something in this room and what is our answer going to be – sorry, we haven't gotten around to it yet?"

"Compromise. How about you look, but try not to touch."

"I'll try."


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey all! Thanks so much for reading. Appreciate everyone who has reached out. I know this community is smaller now, but you all are so encouraging and dedicated. If you are reading along it would be great if you could post a review or just say hi on the review board. Would love to know who is stopping by. Things are about to get a little rough... -Kalli_

The military contingent for this Herald mission came through the gate in a recon posture, but recon turned to action ready very quickly.

"Colonel!" Meyers barked to get the attention of his CO, the tone in his voice making it clear that there was something to see in the direction Meyers was looking. But John had trouble of his own.

Heading towards the gate in formation was a squad of ten soldiers, weapons high, pace fast, and looking like business. When John was sure that Evan had his P90 up and was watching the group approaching from the east, he turned, to see Meyers' concern - another squad approaching from the west.

"Think they are here for us, or each other," Lorne asked.

"We're about to find out," Sheppard said. "Form up on the Doc," he commanded, and everyone surrounded her.

It seemed to be that motion that caught the attention of the group to the east. One of them held a fist up in the air, and brought the team to a stop. He spoke into something anchored on his combat vest, and then gave a command to his squad. He grabbed a small device off his belt – too small from the distance they were at to know what it was, but it barked like an airhorn in an otherwise silent field.

That noise brought the other squad to a standstill – and dropped both squads to one knee a respectful distance from the new arrivals. Then the soldier with the airhorn handed off his weapon to someone in his squad, and jogged over to the gate.

He came to attention in front of the group, eyes front and not focused on anything but a spot in the air in front of him. Sheppard had the team stay focused on Jennifer as he went to size up the soldier.

"Sir, Captain Raini, Army of Ontera, reporting for duty," he called out.

Military formality. That was something that Sheppard knew and could work with.

"Stand easy, Captain. Colonel Sheppard," John said, introducing himself.

"Are you leading the Herald's protection detail, sir?"

"Yes, Captain. And how about you?" Sheppard asked looking over his shoulder at the other squad, still holding their position with their weapons holstered. "We seem to have interrupted something."

"No, sir. Of course not. This was a standard Herald Extraction Drill. I've probably done it sixty times, sir. Everyone has. But no one has ever happened to be doing it when the Herald actually, you know, arrived," the young man said casually, and then thinking better of it, cleared his throat and came back to attention.

"And why, exactly, is there a Herald Extraction Drill?" Sheppard asked him.

"It's a standard operating imperative that all teams are prepared to approach the gate at speed, secure the Herald, and transport them with expedience to the Leadership Compound. Of course, we understand your hesitance, and know that you are responsible for the Herald's safety. We would, however, urge you to allow us to escort you there with all haste."

"How far?"

"About a twenty minute walk, that way," Raini said indicating the direction with his hand.

"Let me confer with the team. Gather up your men."

John heard the Captain gathering up the two squads while he approached Jennifer. He spoke in low tones.

"Seems like these are the good guys. They have some security concerns and want to get us out of the open and to their compound ASAP. I say we go and not wait around to see what they are so worried about."

Ronon nodded, now scanning the trees in the distance for whatever danger these soldiers trained against.

"Following your lead, Colonel," Jennifer said with mostly a smile and a hint of worry behind her eyes.

John turned back to Raini and his team.

"Captain Raini, may I introduce the Herald." He gestured to Jennifer with his hand, and immediately twenty men fell to one knee again, their weapons on the ground in front of them.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

The walk to the compound was tense. So many people with guns standing around Jennifer irritated Ronon. He didn't know them, didn't trust them. And then there was the enemy they said they were protecting her from. He didn't know them either; hadn't even seen them. Too many variables complicating his very simple task: her safety.

He surveyed the twenty Onteran soldiers. They were of no value but shields. They may have had uniforms and guns, but they were untested. Trained, but without understanding what it meant to meet and defeat an enemy. He could tell by the way they walked, the lax way they surveyed the horizon, the way they held their weapons.

If trouble came, these men would be of no help.

As the walls of the compound came into view, Ronon recalibrated his surveillance for close quarters, and fell in behind Jennifer.

Raini led them inside where they met a heavy set man, balding on top, with a warm smile. He bowed deeply before Jennifer and welcomed her.

"I am Nava," he explained. "I welcome you and your protection detail to Ontera."

"Thank you," Jennifer responded kindly.

"This way," he said, and let them to a meeting hall within the walls.

When they reached the hall, Sam, Jennifer and John took seats at the table while the others stood guard.

"You will find no danger in the compound," he assured them.

"You'll forgive us if we are over-zealous. Protecting the Herald is our most important task, John explained

"Of course. We will render all possible assistance."

"What is it that she needs protection from?" Sam asked.

Nava shook his head. The story itself seemed like a source of great sadness to him. He explained their world had been hit with an illness; periodic in its presentation, varying in its duration, and always deadly. There had been no occasion of the illness before Ontera made its promise to the Ancients, although no one could imagine a link between those things.

The illness came once in consecutive generations, but was usually generations apart. There was no warning, and no way to treat it, but they were able to calibrate sensors and radar collectors to find it. Now they could stop the spread, but had no relief for those who suffered.

It returned just a few short years ago. The detection system had worked, and they were quickly able to contain it, but the previous governor had used harsh methods of separating families and collecting the sick. Nava didn't want to judge his predecessors actions, but it was clear that the decisions that were made and the actions that were taken were hard to swallow, even if effective and for the common good.

It was after that return of the illness that a group of men banded together. Nava called them rebels. They had weapons, hide outs, and an abundance of anger. There were rumors that they had an ancient weapon, but no one knew if that was true. They banded together for a singular purpose – to ensure that when the Herald appeared, the gate was opened.

"Have you engaged in battle with these rebels," Sheppard asked?

"Mostly they just steal supplies. We defend this compound as access to the Ring of the Ancients, and we defend the Choosing Stone. They have never sought out a direct confrontation for the sake of confrontation. But, of course, until now there has been no Herald here to make a battle worth their while."

Nava continued by explaining his world's tribute to the Ancients. They had developed and manufactured sensors that could be calibrated to search for a programmed thing at levels of detail and confidence never before achieved. And radar components: they had made components that could augment radar systems to improve their detection and characterization of almost any organic makeup, regardless of size or material.

"Herald we have waited countless generations to fulfill our task. We would like nothing better than to show you our facilities, meet the descendants of the people who made great advances, let you see what we accomplished in the peace the Ancients bestowed on us. But I fear that is not possible. I believe the sooner you take the tributes and return to your Council the safer you will be. We will feast tonight, and tomorrow you can close the gate."

Ronon saw the reaction in Jennifer as soon the Governor was finished speaking.

"You're going to close the gate?" Her eyes gave away the compassion churning in her heart.

"Yes," Nava said, resolutely.

"No interest in trade, or information, or medicine?" Sam asked, diplomatically.

"The danger outweighs the good. The possibility of the Wraith finding us here? The risk of spreading our illness to others? The risk of bringing another illness back? No. We will close the gate," he responded to Sam.

Then gently taking Jennifer's hand, he turned the conversation to the events of the evening.

"The feast is in the gathering hall, two buildings down. I will leave you with your team to discuss and make plans. Dinner is at sunset. It will be a great honor to feast with you." Then he turned to Sheppard. "Captain Raini will remain outside the door to this building should there be anything that you need. Next to the gathering hall we have a room set up for your accommodations. Raini will show you everything."

When they were alone, the team conferred.

"Would be nice to make this happen all in one trip," Lorne said.

"Yeah," John said. "The less time we spend here the less time the rebels will have to make a plan."

They decided Jen, Teyla, Ronon and Sam would attend the feast, and the rest would join the soldiers outside on protection detail.

Dinner was uneventful. Pleasant enough people, a little longwinded. They were about half way through the event when Sam went to relieve Sheppard – give him a change to get some food. They would cycle through the team stationed outside so everyone had a few minutes of break. It was not long after Sheppard came in and started eating that the first gunshot could be heard outside. Then another. And another.


	5. Chapter 5

The gathering room erupted in chaos as the sounds of gunfire and yelling could be heard outside. Soldiers appeared hastily, and sealed the door separating the large room from the front entrance. It also separated the Atlantis team in two. Jen could see John arguing to have the door reopened, but he was not succeeding.

"Our apologies, Herald," Nava explained. "The rebels must have seen the ring come to life. This will come to nothing."

A server in the gathering hall inched closer to the case where the Herald dagger was on display for the celebration. Taking a rod of some kind from his back, he shattered the case, catching everyone's attention. Then he twisted the rod making it longer – doubling it to nearly six feet in length, with one flat end and one with a ball. He slapped a metallic bracelet on his wrist, and then slammed the flat end of the rod to the ground. He smiled as a beam of energy began emanating from the rod.

Ronon jumped in front of Jennifer.

"Protect the Herald" the host yelled. People made their way to either surround Jennifer or attack the enemy, but the beam colored the room in light, rendering people unconscious as it contacted them. Ronon guarded Jennifer behind his back with Teyla and Sheppard coming to his side, but they were unable to stand for long: the energy weapon's beam washed over them, and without pain or apparent injury, their bodies went slack.

As they fell to the floor, Jennifer fell with them hoping to hide. She heard a burst of static and a deep voice report status.

"Graan here. Come in through the back entrance. Keep the rest of the Ancient's team distracted. We have what we came for."

She didn't like the sound of that.

Footsteps, and then she felt Ronon's body being moved aside.

"Look what we have here," he toyed, recognizing Jennifer was not unconscious.

She could feel the anger in his eyes, and stumbled to speak. A squad of men entered taking Ronon, Sheppard and Teyla. Then Graan roughly pulled her across the room. She gathered her senses briefly and attempted to resist, catching him off balance and sweeping her leg to put him on the floor. She turned to run for door that would take her to Lorne and Sam, but he caught her ankle by a hair and pulled her down.

He crawled over her, pinning her to the ground with her hands above her head. She struggled, but his strength and weight overwhelmed her.

"You are no Herald to me. You are a harbinger of death and loss. Try that again and I will kill you that very moment. The legend says it's only your blood I need."

Jennifer nodded repeatedly, desperate to get this man's body off of her own. When he stood, he reached to give her a hand up, but once he had extended her arm, he unleashed a brutal kick to her ribs that left her gasping for air.

They made their retreat swiftly to a series of tunnels that led away from the compound. Jennifer lost all sense of direction as she was shoved down hallways and around turns. She pushed on, hoping Ronon was at the end of the trip: with the group she had a better chance.

They came back above ground only long enough for Jennifer to get a quick look at a makeshift camp. There were some crates of supplies outside a door that led to another underground room. Kicking the slightly ajar door open with his foot, Graan threw Jennifer to the ground in the middle of the open area, and she watched him check that Ronon and John's hands were bound behind their back.

Jen stayed as still as she could to not garner any more attention and breathed in relief when she noticed Ronon begin to stir; then John, then Teyla. The men were stood up as they regained their bearings. Teyla was held with an arm around her neck. John pulled his arm away from one of the rebels once, only to have someone kick Jennifer as a motivator for good behavior. Jennifer cried out, and when she looked up, she met Ronon's eyes. She could see his concern.

And feel his anger.

Radiating off him like heat off a volcano.

Graan's movement was quick and purposeful as he pulled Jennifer from the floor. He pushed her up against the rock wall, the rough edges of the rocky surface scratching her face. He grabbed the jacket she wore and rolled it down off her arms from behind, discarding it on the ground by her feet.

Jennifer tried to survey the situation like Ronon or John would. Tried to look for opportunity. Hope. The two guns in the room trained on John and Ronon from a distance were an obstacle that they had overcome plenty of times in the past. The bound hands Ronon would remedy as soon as the guards were distracted. It was the knife being held directly to Teyla's throat that she didn't think they had an answer for. Yet.

Graan siezed Jennifer by the hair, gathering it up in a fist high on the back of her head. The tension in his armed loosed for a split second, and Jennifer read it as an opportunity. She swung back with an elbow, making contact with his throat. When she turned to follow the blow, however, Graan anticipated her motion and slammed her head into the wall. Then, still holding her by the hair, he pulled her over to stand beside Ronon, facing the opposite way.

Ronon's hands tied behind his back, Jennifer reached her hand up to steady herself on the strength of his shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Graan reach past her. Ronon began straining against his bonds as Graan reached forward and lifted Jennifer's Will token. Ronon's increased agitation was noted by the other rebels, with two men coming to hold him in place, and one tightening his grip on Teyla.

Ronon's face registered his contempt as Graan examined the token. Jen tried to strain to see what Graan was doing, but he turned her head forward again and tapped on the skin by the matching Mark she wore on her neck.

"See," Graan said through mock laughter, "this just got a whole lot more fun. Get on your knees," Graan commanded Ronon.

Ronon made no attempt to comply.

"Knees, now!"

"You are a dead man," was the deliberate response he got in what could only be described as a growl.

"We'll see," Graan responded as he returned his attention to Jennifer. He grabbed hold of her and spun her to face him. He punched her, doubling her over and putting her to her knees. He pulled a knife from his waste, and lifted Jennifer back to her feet, this time positioning her directly in front of Ronon. Putting the knife to her throat, and letting the blade start the smallest trickle of blood down her neck, he gave his command again.

"Last time. Get on your knees."

Jennifer closed her eyes. She hoped somehow that would hide her tears. Mask her pain. Disguise her fear. But when she opened them, she was calmed by the intensity of the stare Ronon met her with. It brought her the smallest amount of peace. And strength.

Ronon never lost eye contact with her as he lowered himself to the ground.

"There. Now that wasn't so hard."

The men positioned behind Ronon took an additional length of rope and tied Ronon's bound wrists to a bolt in the ground.

"That, Herald, is a man with no options. That is a man faced with only bad choices because of circumstance. That is a man with everything to lose, and he knows it," Graan whispered in Jennifer's ear as he ran the blade of his knife down her face. "I've been that man. It turned me into the man I am now."

Jennifer turned abruptly and spit on his face.

"You could never be that man."

Ronon gave her just the hint of a smile for her defiance as Graan roared and backed Jennifer away, the blood still forming a trail down her neck.


	6. Chapter 6

Graan lifted Jen's left arm to meet a shackle bolted in the wall. John watched her struggle to see over her shoulder while Graan hooked the clasp around her wrist.

And it made John cringe.

He had been a soldier for a long time; liberated people, rescued people, been taken prisoner, tortured, seen others tortured. In all that time there was only one reason to shackle someone spread eagle facing a wall. He scanned the room and that was when he saw it – the leather strap haphazardly tossed in the corner – prepositioned for the right moment.

"Do you know what that promise cost us? Do you?" He yelled in Jennifer's ear as he shackled her right arm. The volume and anger made her cower against the wall, yet she protested.

"It was a terrible sacrifice that you all made to save millions. I'm sure that…"

"You have no idea what you are talking about. When the illness came there was nothing. No medicine to trade for, no other worlds to find capable healers. Nowhere to go. No way to get help. Nothing to do but watch people we love be taken away to die."

There it was – revenge born in grief. John's stomach tightened. It was a combination that could only be soothed in blood.

Ronon must have known it to, because he looked at Graan and made a counter offer.

"Take me." There was no emotion to it. A simple statement.

"Ronon, no," Jennifer pleaded. Graan grabbed her hair to silence her.

"Why?" Graan asked spitefully.

"You want her to suffer as you suffer?"

"I do."

"She is sanctified to me. Let her know the helplessness you suffered watching one she loves in pain." Ronon explained.

"That is touching, but I will hear her suffer just fine my way."

And with that Graan grabbed the strap and let loose the first blow.

Jennifer's first scream was short, with a quick intake of breath, and was almost drowned out by the protesting of both Ronon and John. Chained facing the wall she hadn't seen it coming. It surprised her in timing and intensity. John couldn't see her back, but he could see her eyes. The pain shocked her.

"No smile now, I see," Graan taunted Ronon.

Graan let the next blow hit, inducing a longer, deeper cry.

"She was my whole world," Graan yelled to everyone and no one at the same time.

Ronon's breath became erratic – his body shaking in rage. He had gotten to a concealed knife and was cutting through the ropes. Once Ronon's hands were free, John knew they would find an opportunity. Looking at Teyla as the third lash hit, Teyla assured him with her eyes that she was ready for anything. The other rebels were distracted by the spectacle, and now was the only chance they would get.

Graan's fury had him so focused on hearing Jen scream that he stopped noticing what went on around him. That was the other thing revenge could do – give you tunnel vision and blind you. John was going to count on that.

John took one step toward Ronon with the next lash at the same time that Ronon's wrists freed themselves from their ropes. As the fifth lash came down on Jennifer, John, Teyla and Ronon flew into action. Teyla had her distracted keeper unarmed and dead in seconds, John charged the armed rebel behind Ronon, and as Graan's follow through from the last blow brought his arm down towards the ground, Ronon tackled him. He unleashed a series of punches on the man beneath him, and then grabbed the strap: it became the weapon of Ronon's own revenge. Taking it from Graan, Ronon wrapped it around the man's neck, pulling it tight with his anger.

Teyla and John cleared the room and went to help Jennifer. Supporting her as they unclasped the shackles, they carefully wrapped her arms around their shoulders to support her. Out of the corner of his eye John watched Ronon end Graan's life. There were no words of anger, no taunts or insults. Just the actions of rage. A silent final punishment. Ronon stared him down as he drew his last breath, then unwrapped the belt and discarded it to the side.

Ronon came around in front of Jennifer, putting his hands on either side of her face. She cried and collapsed forward into his arms as he closed his arms around her, careful not to hurt her back.

That was when John heard it: the unmistakable sound of a P90.

John leaned toward Jennifer. "The cavalry is here, Doc."

Teyla took Jennifer's weight as John and Ronon gathered weapons and made sure the people on the other side of the door were friends.

From the north side of the room, the door that led deeper into the hideout, came a young man and a small child. The little one cried "Daddy" as the older one, a teenage boy cried, "Father," both falling to the ground at Graan's body.

When John and Lorne met on opposite sides of the south doorway, Lorne reported that the rebels were defeated, and the way back to the compound was secure.

"Not going back that way. Doc is hurt. Need to get her back to Atlantis. Let's get to the gate."

He looked at Carter, who had made it inside, "Tell Nava the Herald is hurt. We need to get her medical care – our medical care. We'll be back when she's ready to pick up whatever we are supposed to take and do the choosing ceremony. For now, let's move."

Then John heard the shriek of a child in pain. He turned to the sound, only to find the older boy grabbing the hair of the little girl to make her scream. That, and a flash of something across the room – a silver streak that made its way directly at Jennifer. He lifted his gun and fired, but the boy had already let his weapon fly. He fell to the ground, dead before his head hit the floor, but Jennifer had also spun at the sound of the child in pain, her healer heart likely unable to resist. The silver dagger that would be used in the choosing ceremony found its target, embedding itself in Jennifer's chest.

Her eyes grew wide, but she was silent. She moved her lips as though she was trying to speak, but nothing came out. Blood appeared at the corner of her mouth and spread across the front of her shirt. She staggered, and stumbled into the arms of her team.

"Jennifer!" Ronon yelled, his voice barely masking his panic.

Her eyelids got heavy and as her pupils rolled to the back of her head and she collapsed.


	7. Chapter 7

Ronon scooped Jen and carried her out to fresh air while John scanned the rebel camp for anything they could use as a stretcher. He finally settled on the top of a crate about five feet long and two feet wide. He called the team over, Matthews, Meyers, Lorne and Carter grabbing a corner.

"Ronon, here - let's get her on the board."

"I've got her."

"This is better," John explained.

"No."

"Ronon, we can't remove the knife. We need her as still as possible so it doesn't do any more damage."

John saw the reluctance as Ronon carefully laid her on the board. They immobilized her with straps from someone's field back. Ronon tried to take a corner of the board himself, but John gave him another task.

"Raini says the gate is that way about seven minutes. We need to make it a lot faster than that. You and Teyla have the lead – I have rear guard."

The team made its way back to the gate with speed. The Onterans followed to ensure their safety. As they gathered in the clearing by the ring, John cursed under his breath.

"Bring her over to the side," he said.

It was Sam that asked the question no one wanted to say out loud.

"Will she survive opening the gate this way?"

"She won't survive if she doesn't," John answered bluntly.

John looked at Ronon for his approval.

It was his wife.

It was his call.

Once he nodded his consent, John pointed at a spot on the ground near the reachable portion of the ring. "Here," he said. "Hold her here. Ronon, help them keep her steady."

They tilted the board, and John shouldered his weapon. He took Jennifer's hands, too cold hands, and touched them the blood on her chest. Then he placed her hands on ring, and held them there with his own.

It was loud. So loud he couldn't hear anything else. Like a wind tunnel. There was vibration coming through Jennifer's hands, and it made him dizzy. Between the volume and the disorientation and the vibration John started to sense pain – his head, his hands- tension in every part of his body. When the horizon appeared he dropped her hands and staggered backwards, Teyla helping him. They brought Jennifer through the gate, and Teyla supported John as they made their way back to Atlantis.

On the other side of the event horizon Lorne was barking orders. When Chuck went to radio for a Medical Team, Lorne yelled not to bother and pushed the team to get Jen to the medbay, wooden crate stretcher and all.

"Go, go, go," he called to the team. "This is faster. Just keep going."

When they entered the medbay it was clear that Carson and Pedersen were ready for patients. Just not who and how bad.

"Oh, Jennifer," her heard Carson whisper as he guided the team to put her down on a gurney. As Pedersen quickly and firmly moved the team out of the patient care area, Carson went right to work on assessing the injuries. Ronon stood at the foot of the gurney, not moved by Pedersen's words or Marie's instructions.

"Bloody hell," Carson said under his breath, and then a much louder "Prep OR 1."

"Yes, Doctor," someone replied. If Carson heard it, he didn't acknowledge it. He grabbed scissors and began cutting away Jennifer's shirt. "Ronon, outside."

"No."

"Out. You got her here. That was your part. This is our part."

Ronon stood like a statue.

Lorne came back to the gurney to get Ronon, to move him out of the way so the team could do their work. When one of the nurses bumped into Ronon, who had still not relinquished his position, Carson laid it out for him.

"Son, the knife is lodged close to her heart. She's losing blood, and oxygen, and I need to get her on the table or we will lose her. Get out of the way so we can do our job."

Lorne put his hand on Ronon's shoulder and guided him towards the door. By then Teyla, a recuperating Sheppard and the rest of the team had arrived. When Lorne was convinced that Ronon was joining them, he returned to Carson and Dr. Pedersen as they pulled a curtain around the bed. Averting his eyes from Jennifer out of respect as they stripped her down and prepped her for surgery, he simply gave the doctors all the information he had gotten on the way to the gate.

"I didn't see it, but they told me that she was beaten, that her ribs and abdomen took a lot of abuse, and that she was whipped. We didn't want to put her back on the board untreated, but then she got hit with the dagger and we didn't know how else to immobilize her."

Carson had no words of comfort for him at that moment. He was focused on his task. The only reply was ominous.

"Evan, we're locking down the gallery. No one watches. We're going to be a while."

"Hang on, Sunshine," Evan whispered the air, and headed to the waiting area to join the team.

No one spoke for the first hour. Lorne used that time to digest everything that had happened. He stepped into the hallway at one point to get on his radio. He tasked a private with hitting the mess and bringing up some food and coffee and water. Private Erlich rolled it on a cart, spoke to no one, looked at no one, and left. The gravity in the room was palpable.

Through the window to the hallway Lorne noticed that Tello had come up the medbay as well. He wouldn't enter, but he wanted to be close. Lorne thought of inviting him in, but decided against it. Ronan seemed to have moved on from wanted Tello dead, but now wasn't a good time to test it.

At some point around the two hour mark Dr. Pedersen came out. Sheppard stood to get a status update, but the doctor went right to Ronon. He gestured to a chair in the waiting area, but Ronon shook his head.

"Tell me."

"We're working through the knife wound first. She's also suffered a pneumothorax – it's a collapsed lung – either from the knife or bone fragments from other rib fractures. The broken ribs are complicating the exploration. There's a lot of bleeding. Dr. Beckett is working to isolate and contain it. The blade nicked a lot of things on its way in, including her heart. She went into shock, and her blood pressure is very low. Her temperature is rising and we are seeing an infection setting into the wounds on her back. It isn't a good combination of things to have happen at once."

Evan watched Ronon's face. He gave away nothing. Said nothing. He just turned and stared into the main area of the medbay, Jennifer's bloody clothes still discarded on the floor.

"She's fighting, Ronan. We have a long way to go, but she's fighting."

"How long?" Sheppard asked.

"Long. Does anyone else need medical attention? We can get post mission medicals done if you…"

Sheppard waived his hand and ended that conversation.

Dr. Pedersen understood. "We'll come back out as often as we can."


	8. Chapter 8

Sheppard, Carter and Carson had been called to Woolsey's office. They ran into each other along the way, Sam asking John if he knew what was going on. John just shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't heard anything. It was unusual that Woolsey would include Carter in their discussions, though, so from the beginning John was a little on edge.

But then everyone was a little on edge. The story of how Jennifer had been hurt was making its rounds in the city. In the days since the incident, people's concern had only grown. She touched a lot of lives. John shouldn't have been surprised how hard everyone had taken it.

Woolsey started with the big question everyone at Atlantis was asking.

"Any updates on Dr. Keller's condition?"

Carson shook his head.

"Same. We're at seven days post surgery. Still hasn't regained consciousness. Indications are good, but we expected to see her come around by now," Carson reported.

"Is her 'enhanced recuperative response' not helping?" Sam asked.

"Maybe helping too much," Carson answered.

"How so?" Woolsey wondered.

"We know so little about the Herald gene, especially how it works. It interacts with the gate process in some way we can't observe. We believe that the gene produces an enzyme in her system that enhances regeneration and healing. After other trips, the enzyme naturally dissipated from her blood stream. It isn't doing that this time. We can't tell if it is breaking down and producing more or just not breaking down. I think it has put her into a sort of gene induced coma to protect her. But right now that's all speculation."

"What have you learned analyzing the enzyme?" Woolley asked.

"Nothing," Carson replied. "We can't get it to survive outside her body to put through any analysis."

"Significant trauma affects everyone differently. Hopefully her body is just taking its time to heal," Carter added.

"Indeed," Woolsey added.

John sensed Woolsey's discomfort, and it made John shift in his chair. If he was worried about something, it was usually worth worrying about.

"We got a databurst from SGC this afternoon," Woolsey began, changing the subject

John shifted in his seat again. Woolsey nervous was a bad sign. Woolsey nervous about new news from SGC was a really bad sign.

"Dr. Feist is dead."

"First good news of the day," John commented with relief.

"Was she killed in an attempt to recapture her?" Sam inquired.

"No, it appears that she was murdered while she was in hiding. She was found in a lake house a few hours from SGC by a real estate agent who was trying to sell the property. The realtor said she had been at the house a week ago and there had been no sign of anyone, so Feist hadn't been there long."

"Wonder what she got herself mixed up in," Sam wondered aloud.

"An excellent question, Colonel. That's going to be for you to find out. With the Herald activity suspended indefinitely for Dr. Keller's convalescence, and this wrinkle developing at SGC, General O'Neill has requested that you gate back and lead the investigation."

John watched disappointment flash across Sam's face, quickly masked in true military form.

"We'll need to find out who she had contact with, who helped her, what she promised them, and why they killed her," Sam stated, already starting the plan for the investigation in her head. "I'll plan to gate back to SGC tomorrow."

"Thank you, Colonel Carter."

Woolsey's objective complete, he exited with Carson, leaving John and Sam.

"It's been a real help having you here," John admitted. "For the team, and especially Jennifer."

Samantha nodded, accepting the gratitude with poise.

"Keep an eye on her for me?"

John nodded.

"And get me an update on her condition as soon as we know anything."

He nodded again.

"And keep an eye on Rodney – the Herald toys are pretty big temptation."

"Sam – I got this. You go make sure that all of the trouble Feist caused us is really dead and buried with her."

"Will do."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Ronon didn't have time for words. The things that happened, that shaped him, they often happened so quickly there was no time to think about how to describe them. He just reacted. But now, here, he had nothing but time. And he hated it.

He had spent seven days at Jennifer's bedside. He removed himself when the staff demanded it, but never wandered far. People brought food that he sometimes ate and sometimes forgot. He held Jennifer's hand.

He watched her.

He watched the rhythms of all the machines that clicked and hissed and beeped around her. He watched the lines that flashed across the screens telling him her heart was strong. He watched the numbers change as the machine that regulated her breathing inhaled and exhaled for her. He watched the drips from the IV bottle drop.

And he had enough time to know that the only word that described what he saw before him was heartbreaking.

She was so passionate. So warm. So full of life. To see her like this was simply heartbreaking.

They expected her to wake up days ago. Her lungs were healing, her heart was strong, the observable concussion signs were dissipating, and the swelling with her injuries had gone down. Her bruises were even fading.

But there was nothing.

And if one more person told him to be patient, he was going to kill them.

The day after the surgery Beckett had come by and given him the dagger. Beckett knew Jennifer was keeping a knife from each world. No one knew if they had more significance other than being a souvenir. They were going to send it down to the Herald Lab, but Beckett said he didn't know if Ronon would want to hold on to it.

He slid it into his boot that day and not thought much of it, but he kept it with him. Now he had it out again and he stared at it.

It had touched her heart. Somehow that was powerful to him.

He kept it in his hand and spun it. He balanced the weight of it on his hand. He rolled it on his fingers. He gripped it in his hand. He reached over to Jennifer and gently wrapped her hand around it. It was a good fit for her hands. Too small for him, he thought, but perfect for her. He held it there, his hand wrapped around hers, touching his forehead to her hand.

"I love you, Jennifer," he whispered.

He heard the curtain move behind him, and steadied his face, attempting to hide the sea of uncertainty and fear that swam in his mind. Standing up straight and turning, he saw Teyla.

"I did not mean to intrude."

"You're always welcome here. Good for her to hear voices other than mine. That's what Beckett says."

"The Athosians believe the same. We believe that when someone is at rest in this way that they can hear and sense what is around them. In this case, I am sure that Jennifer is feeling your love."

"I don't know what else to do for her," he said, lost.

"She will come back to you," Teyla assured him, touching his arm. "But it is not Jennifer I came to see this time. I came for you."

"Me?"

"Major Lorne is going to come by in an hour and sit with Jennifer, and you are going to go eat something. Maybe go for a run. Rods if you are interested. You need to step away from here, even for a few hours. You must care for yourself if you are to care for her."

"I am fine, Teyla," he insisted.

"You most certainly are not. And you are not alone. Do not act like you are."

He nodded, and looked over at her. Taking a step to her bedside, he brushed his knuckles against hers, and removed the dagger. As he went to put it away, he sensed the slightest change in Jennifer's breathing.

"Jennifer?"

Yes, her breathing rhythm was changing. And then he felt a tension in her form. It started at her diaphragm, and worked its way up. And a wince.

"Beckett," he barked to get Carson's attention, and he came quickly.

She scrunched her face and tried to move her mouth, coming into contact with an unfamiliar feeling. There was an attempt at a sound, then distress.

"Jennifer, I'm here. It's ok. You're ok."

Another sound.

And then Carson stepped in. "Well now, lass, no getting upset. I did some of my best work on you. Lay still and keep your eyes closed for a minute. Squeeze my hand if you understand. Good," he said. "You were intubated during surgery, so we are going to need to take care of that first."

She nodded

Beckett didn't sound like he did when he talked to other patients. Ronon had heard him do that plenty. Carson knew that Jennifer would feel better knowing exactly what was happening.

"Marie, let's get ready to extubate Dr. Keller. You know the drill, missy. You've given these instructions hundreds of times, so no excuse for causing trouble. We are going to raise the bed to 60 degrees," he said as he adjusted the angle of her chest and head. "We are going to bend your knees slightly," he added as Marie put a pillow under her knee for support. "Ronon is going to hold your right shoulder," and he gestured for Ronon to gently hold her upper body in place.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

"OK, then I'm administering the positive pressure breath, and…" Marie took hold of the tube and in one graceful and firm motion removed it from Jennifer's trachea, inducing a cough from Jennifer. "Voila. You are coughing. Perfect. Do you need any suction?"

Jen shook her head.

"OK. You still have a chest tube," he said gently placing his hand on it to help her regain spatial awareness. "That we will take out in a little bit and go over your whole chart." Marie handed him a cup. "Here are some ice chips for your throat. I'll give them to Ronon and he can keep you comfortable."

But as Jennifer relaxed against the bed she groaned in pain.

"Yes, your back is still tender. On a scale of one to ten tap my hand how much it hurts."

Jennifer started tapping his hand furiously.

"Okay."

He injected something into her IV. She turned her head to the side that Ronon was on. She slowly mouthed the word 'yours' through chapped lips and a hoarse throat, and then her head slacked to the side and she was out again. Ronon looked to Beckett with concern.

"Morphine does that to her. She isn't unconscious, just sleeping. It's a good sign. This is a very good sign."

Ronon exhaled a long breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"She will be out for another hour or two, and then we'll need to do an examination. Go spread the word. And maybe take a shower. We will call you when she wakes up again."

Ronon felt like a boulder had been lifted from his chest. He tapped his earpiece.

"Sheppard. Lorne"

"Yeah. What's up, big man?"

"She's awake."


	9. Chapter 9

Senior staff meetings were uneventful when there were minimal numbers of off world missions and no impending threat. Woolsey, Carson, Sheppard, Lorne and Rodney gathered in Woolsey's conference room. They went over announcements from SGC, rotations, holiday planning, morale issues; they talked about missions they want to get on the schedule when the regular mission schedule was up and running.

"How's the Doc doing? Any idea when she might be cleared to get the Journey going?" John asked Carson.

"Recovering. We are at surgery plus twelve days, and she's been awake for the last five. Not ready yet. We don't have a timetable."

John had known Carson a long time. There was a lot more that he wasn't saying.

"Maybe we can get one or two routine trading missions in while she recuperates," Lorne suggested.

"Yes," Woolsey concurred. "It would be advantageous to get some of those underway. They rely on the supplies, and we don't want an unexplained gap that would strain relations or raise questions."

John nodded his head. "I'll talk to Teyla about which partners would be a priority to see and try to get three of four of them on the schedule this week while we wait for the Doc to be ready. And we'll need a plan. Having to go back to that planet won't be high on her list of desired locations, but we didn't finish her business there."

The meeting broke, and as everyone left John asked Lorne and Carson to stay behind.

"So how is she doing, really?"

"I'll bet she is driving the medical staff nuts. You'll be glad to get her out of there," Lorne commented with a laugh.

But with knowing eyes, Carson answered him.

"You know how many times she has asked to leave?"

"Like a thousand?" Lorne estimated.

"Not once."

Both men looked at Carson in confusion.

"Come again?" John asked, making sure he had heard the doctor right.

"Not once. She is the perfect patient," Carson commented in an exaggerated tone. "She sleeps in the least comfortable bed imaginable, eats terribly bland food, does her physical therapy, does her sessions with Heitmeyer, and never complains or asks to be discharged or cleared."

"That doesn't sound like Jennifer." Lorne pointed out even though that was obvious to all.

"No, no it doesn't."

"What does Heitmeyer say?" John tried to keep the concern from his voice with limited success.

"That Dr. Keller has clear recollection of the events she was conscious for, that she's able to distinguish between being in the present or the past, that there is enough emotional reaction that Jennifer isn't in denial, but enough control that she isn't suffering from disqualifying trauma."

"What does Ronon say?"

"What does he ever say? Nothing. He's lost his patience with the infirmary. He leaves her side more often to let her visit with others, but he hasn't directly challenged her. I am about to head back and kick her of the medbay. She has no medical reason to still be there."

John thought about it. Maybe Jennifer needed someone to open to. He left the conference room and tapped his ear piece.

"Teyla, I have a favor to ask."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The more Jennifer thought about getting together with Teyla the more uncomfortable she got. Not that she didn't love Teyla. She did. But Teyla had a way of looking into someone, not just at them. Jennifer was a mix of emotions she was being careful not to delve too deep into, and Teyla would make that a challenge.

Standing in the bathroom after a short but hot shower, Jennifer was starting to get ready. Brushing her hair, she heard Ronon come back to their quarters.

"I'll be right out," she called to him as she turned to face the mirror. She grabbed a towel and wiped the condensation away. She stood naked before her reflection. Her eyes came to rest on the scar on her chest.

It was red and angry. The incision ran four inches, slanted vertically, and when she looked back up at her face it wore disgust and tears.

As a doctor she should see it clinically. It was healing nicely - ahead of schedule thanks to her enhanced recuperative response. No sign of infection. There was no early indication that he scar was developing keloids. She would make a full recovery.

But she couldn't really see it as a doctor would. To her the scar changed how she saw herself. It was ugly, long, discolored. It reminded her of pain and fear. It made her feel small. Helpless. And unfinished – it filled her with dread that the Journey of the Herald couldn't continue until she went back to Ontera.

Because she never wanted to go back.

And lost in that thought, Jennifer jumped and let out a quick yelp when the door to the bathroom opened unexpectedly. She grabbed for a towel and hastily used it to cover herself, holding it in front of her chest as she turned to see Ronon.

Never really entering the room, he hands still held the door as he stuck his head inside.

"I couldn't hear you," he said softly. "What did you day?"

Her eyes still filled with unfallen tears, she just whispered an answer.

"I said I'll be right out."

He nodded his head and looked at her, but Jennifer noticed that his gaze moved from her eyes to over her shoulder. He was looking at the mirror, and while the towel she was holding covered her surgical scar, he could now clearly see the lash marks still healing on her back. Jen adjusted the towel, bringing it around her completely and securing it under her arms.

She came close to him, putting her forehead to his.

Her eyes were closed. She didn't want to see his expression.

"I'll be right out."

He said nothing and quietly closed the door again, leaving her alone with her self-doubt, now with an added dose of embarrassment having reacted the way she did. Probably over-reacted. He was already worried about her. That was obvious. Now in addition to worrying about her body, he would be worrying about her mental state, too.

Crazy Jennifer. It had a certain ring to it.

She was going to dry her hair, but her ribs hurt too much, so she went with the wet look. She took her time getting dressed - casual civilian clothes for the evening. Make up for the first time in memory, and then she straightened up the vanity for a while until she couldn't put off facing him anymore.

She opened the door from the bathroom, and there he was. Sitting on their bed, elbows on his knees, he looked up at her with nothing but love. She walked to him, his sitting height putting him at a perfect level to pull him into a hug. The side of his face resting on her chest, their arms wrapped around each other, they held the embrace. It was his gentle reminder that brought her back to reality.

"You never need to hide yourself from me, little one."

Tears formed again in her eyes, and her flight response kicked in. Leaning down she kissed him on the head.

"I'm meeting Teyla. I need to go."

And with that, she left him in their room alone.


	10. Chapter 10

Jennifer found Teyla in the mess hall. Jen grabbed a cup of hot chocolate, Teyla grabbed a bottle of water, and they went outside to walk a little. And drink their drinks. And look at the ocean. Pretty much anything but talk.

"It is good to see you not in the infirmary, Jennifer," Teyla said kindly.

"The fresh air is nice. I feel like I've been cooped up inside for weeks," Jen replied, looking out at the water.

"And how are you feeling?"

"Better. Ribs hurt less. Conditioning is shot. I have a lot of running to do when they let me," Jen reported.

Then a long silence.

Jennifer continued to look out at nothing in particular. She knew that once she made eye contact with Teyla she would come apart. Which made her think of the myth of Medusa the Gorgon who could turn people to stone with her eyes. Don't look her in the eyes, she thought. Which made Jen giggle. Which made her look around nervously. Which is when she found Teyla looking right at her. With compassion. And questions. Lots of questions.

Stone.

Jennifer froze like a stone.

And then the tears she had battled for the better or worse part of an hour finally fell freely. She sank to the ground on the pier and wrapped her arms around her knees and cried. Teyla came to rest next to her, putting her arms around her friend, and quietly supporting her.

"I'm so afraid."

"You went through something significant, Jennifer. Do not minimize it."

"I'm not minimizing it. The opposite, actually. It's all I can think about. All I can think about is how afraid I am."

"Can you see in your mind what you are afraid of?"

"Everything," Jen replied in frustration.

"Your mind will not be able to process it if you look at all together. You need to break it up into pieces that your mind can comprehend. What are you afraid of?"

"Afraid I'll be too scared to go back. Afraid I'll never be whole again. Afraid to let Ronon look at me," she wept.

"He loves you, Jennifer."

"I know that."

"Then trust him."

"I do trust him," Jen countered.

"Trust him more than you doubt yourself."

That was putting a fine point on it. It was trust in degrees. She trusted no one alive more than she trusted Ronon; every part of her heart and soul and body knew that to be true. But she doubted herself more than she trusted anyone, and it was tearing her apart.

"Trust him to be patient. Trust him to be accepting," Teyla implored.

"He shouldn't have to."

"How is it that in all of your patients you see their scars as remembrances of what they survived, but in yourself you see them as a defect. Do you think he cares?" Teyla challenged.

"No. Yes. I don't know. How could he not?"

"Because he loves all of you," Teyla remaindered her with compassion.

"Maybe I took on too much."

"You are too hard on yourself, Jennifer. In others you praise effort whether it led to success or not, but you give yourself no credit for all that you have undertaken."

"Maybe I'm not cut out to be the Herald of the Ancients," Jennifer said with defeat.

"You are the Herald of the Ancients, whether you want to be or not. Now it is a question of will. What will you be?"

Jennifer rested her head on Teyla's shoulders, carefully considering her words. They sat in silence as the sunset until Jennifer gathered herself and hugged her friend.

"Thank you," Jennifer said sincerely.

"I am always here for you, Jennifer." They touched foreheads together in a moment of gratitude, acceptance and respect. Then Jennifer went to find Ronon.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The door opened sooner than Ronon expected, and as Jennifer entered their quarters, she found him in the middle of the living room with a small satchel and a large shoulder bag packed. He watched her face change to confusion.

Then he watched her eyes go from his face to the bags and back.

The sudden realization hit him that for a woman dealing with trauma and doubt, finding her husband with his bags packed was likely not a comforting site. He remembered that where she was from, marriage could be a temporary thing. That's why he wanted to be sanctified in his tradition – it had a permanence and strength those from Earth didn't seem to grasp.

He dropped the bags to the ground and took her hands.

"No," he said. "Let me explain."

He led her to the arm chair that sat in their living room. It was her favorite spot to read. It had a foot rest, and as he sat her down on the chair, he sat in front of her on the ottoman and kept her hands in his the whole time.

The uncertainty in her eyes was so raw; so painful to see.

He tried to not question Jennifer on her life with men before Atlantis, but he couldn't help to wonder: what kind of men had she known that she could believe that all that happened to her could change his love? It would make him angry if it was directed at him, but he knew it was doubt in herself. Maybe that made him more angry. Not at her, though. At two universes that had broken her heart.

"Those bags," he stated resolutely. "That is all we need. We are bound by nothing. You want to be a healer? You can be a healer anywhere. You want to do nothing? Everyone needs a service I provide. If you don't want to be the Herald, if you don't want to take that risk, then don't. If they don't like it," he bit, using his head to indicate that everyone else was an outsider at that moment, "then we disappear. The only thing I need is you."

She looked at her feet, and he crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes back to him.

"Now and forever, Jennifer. Forever."

She threw herself into his arms and began to apologize; for not talking to him, for not being ready to deal with what happened, for jumping to conclusions, for being so hard to be with the last week.

"Shhh. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing."

This is how he knew that however long forever was in their world, that forever is how long they would be together; because a moment alone could always bring them back to equilibrium. She climbed up onto his lap and held him. He brought his arms around her with strength but no force, careful of the healing she still needed to do. She buried her face in his neck and melted into him. It was the most sustaining feeling in this or any world.

He felt her kiss at his neck, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. She kissed up his jaw until she found his mouth, and covered it with her own. She rolled her hips on his and his hands began to caress her back. And then his hands slipped under her shirt, and he felt her whole body tense. Removing them and placing one hand on either side of her face he drew her in for a kiss. He lifted her off his lap and put her back on the chair in front of him.

He went to his knees on the floor before her.

"I always want you. But when you're ready. When you feel strong." He kissed one hand. "And sexy." He kissed the other hand. "And free." He kissed her forehead.

"Free?" she questioned.

"Unconcerned about anything but the way you drive me to insanity with the thought of being inside you. Free to think only of how we feel when we join, how to say what we need with every part of ourselves."

"And what if it takes a while?"

"Then I'll take a lot of cold showers," he said with a smile. "But I'll be here. Now and forever."

"Now and forever."

He kissed her again.

"Jennifer, you are a woman of honor and accomplishment. Only you know the will of your heart. I am yours. Wherever that takes us."


	11. Chapter 11

There was no mistaking the SGA team's demeanor when they came through the gate, P-90s high and ready for action. They were in a formation tightly constructed around Jennifer. Ronon's gun was drawn, and Jennifer; a TAC vest, a side arm strapped to her leg, and a silver dagger in her hand.

They had told her over and over again that it would be ok – that they had a plan to keep her safe. But if she had asked that about the first trip to Ontera they would have said the same thing. Sometimes you go through the gate and just don't know what to expect.

Sometime you know how bad it can be, and you have to go anyway.

There were hundreds of people in view, all at least fifty feet away from the gate. When Jennifer turned to look at the crowd, they extended in every direction. They fell silent at the sight of her, each one – civilian and military – falling to one knee in her presence. Nava came to a spot halfway between those gathered and the Herald and fell to knees as well.

"We beg your forgiveness, Herald."

Jen stayed fixed where she stood. She would like to have thought that she was being cautious and waiting for an all-clear from John, but in reality she was so afraid she couldn't move. She'd worked through a lot in the last few weeks, but here, now, it hit her.

Her hand trembled, and she put the dagger away and stashed the hand in her pocket in hopes no one would see. Ronon came and put a hand on her shoulder.

He had seen.

He probably didn't need to see it to know. That was her first comforting thought on the planet.

Jen's other hand came mindlessly to rest on a beaded necklace she had worn. Of no significant value that wasn't sentimental, Jennifer had been given the necklace on one of her first missions by the mother of a little girl Jennifer treated. She often wore it off-world to remind her of the good she can do.

Jen watched John survey the situation. His face was softening and his P-90, while not shouldered, was no longer actively seeking targets. He conferred with the rest of the team, and leaned to Jennifer.

"We're good," he reassured her.

"Speak for yourself," she said- she hoped in her own mind.

Jennifer approached Nava and motioned for him to rise. It still made her uncomfortable when people kneeled to her.

"Our guilt is beyond measure, Herald. We prayed night and day for your safe return." Nava gestured to a shrine of sorts, candles and flowers and trinkets, bowls with incense.

"Thank you, Nava," she said kindly, still reticent with fear and now uncomfortable with the attention.

She cleared her throat and tried her best to sound Heraldly.

"Ontera made a promise to the Ancients, Nava. Have you completed your task?"

"He bowed his head and then nodded. "Yes. Yes, Herald. We have done as we promised."

There were six large wooden crates stacked to the side of the gathering. He pointed to them. "We worked many years to complete the task, and then we worked many more to make it even better. The main radar meets all of the requirements, desires and guidelines the Ancients provided, and there are many other features and versions in the collection for you to explore. We were meticulous in process and documentation. You will find data crystals with all specifications and instructions."

"That would be a first," John said under his breath.

"It is time for you to choose. Do you speak for your people?"

"I do."

"Then please, lead us to the choosing stone."

John and Ronon orchestrated Jennifer's protection, waving people out of the way and surrounding her as she followed Nava. The Onteran military stood at attention as Jennifer passed, and ensured the people followed John's instructions. The walk was a short one, to a cliff overlooking an ocean. The Choosing Stone showed signs of spending millennia exposed to the elements, but was still in good enough condition for its purpose.

"Ontera, how do you choose?" Jennifer asked in a formal tone.

"Open, Herald. We choose to open the ring once more."

She did a double take and then a subtle smile crossed her face, pleased that Nava had changed his mind to open the gate.

"So be it. The Ancients thank you."

This was the part Jennifer never understood. She placed her hand on the stone, as did Nava, and the stone knew what the answer was. A mind-reading stone. The stone retreated into the ground, and after thousands of years of marking the site and reminding the people of Ontera of their promise, the stone was gone, and the group made its way back to the gate.

There was a girl in the crowd who caught Jennifer's attention. Young, no more than 7. Her eyes were distant and her countenance was sad. She seemed alone in the group, although a kind-faced woman occasionally gave her direction and encouragement. She was familiar to Jen and she couldn't place why. Her loneliness haunted Jen's heart.

It was Nava who noticed Jen watching her. "She's Graan's daughter, Herald. Luella. We can have her taken back to town if…"

"No. Of course not. She's only a child."

Jennifer couldn't take her eyes off the girl. As soon as Nava reminded her, she had a vague recollection of hearing the girl scream right before the knife found itself in her chest.

Luella. Luella lost her mother to bad luck, sickness and the promise. Luella lost her father to Jennifer's husband in order to save Jen's life. Luella lost her brother to Jennifer's bodyguards to protect her. So much loss at such a young age.

As they reached the gate they could see the resurfaced DHD. The crowd gathered again, closer this time to say goodbye. The crates had been moved right to the ring to assist, and all they needed was the Herald.

But Jennifer stood looking at this young girl.

"What will happen to her?" she asked Nava.

He gestured to a woman with four children over his shoulder. "That is my wife, and our four daughters. We will raise Luella as one of our own. A reminder to us all that we must work through our differences, and embrace each other if we are to make this world safe for those we love."

"Five girls. That'll be a handful," John commented.

"Five is a number associated with prosperity here. We will count ourselves blessed."

Jennifer turned to face the girl, and went to her knees. She held her arms out wide and Luella came running. She grabbed Jennifer, holding on to her with a strength uncommon for her age. Jennifer's breath hitched in a shot of pain danced across her healing ribs, but she didn't pull back from the little girl. Luella cried as she held Jennifer, and Jennifer cried with her.

After a moment, Jennifer pulled back and reached around her neck to the beaded necklace that gave her comfort earlier that day and many others. Removing it over her head, she settled it down on the little girl, and kissed her head.

She looked over her shoulder.

"I'm ready, John."

"OK people, here we go."

Jennifer went over to the DHD, and just like in the Control Room in Atlantis touched it with two hands. The gate dialed and the event horizon appeared, the team returning home with their cargo.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

the team decided that with Ontera behind them they would give Jen an extra few days before they dialed up the next Herald world. Everyone seemed happy for the downtime with no stress or injury or stressful mission looming. Jennifer settled into a routine to continue her recovery; back to rebuilding stamina and conditioning.

And her sessions with Teyla, but on this particular night, Teyla was called away. But Jennifer was committed and she told Ronon she would be in the gym. So he made a plan to wander by right when Jennifer was usually almost done with her meditation. He liked to catch some of the routine – there was something mesmerizing about the movement. And the woman.

Her shoulders were back; relaxed. She followed the steps of the motion meditation slowly and methodically. Except that he knew every curve of her body like it was the back of his hand, someone could have mistaken her for Teyla. She was that precise, that concentrated. She had mastered this Athosian tradition like she had been doing it her whole life.

Her eyes were closed, so her balance was strong. She had complete awareness of her movement.

And alone with her thoughts she was at peace.

And that made everything in Ronon's frame relax.

It had been so long since she had seemed herself. A hair on edge, a second of hesitation, a speck of doubt, a fragment of fear: others might not have seen her struggle, but he had seen each agonizing second of it. It kept her from laughing. It kept her from connecting. It kept her from intimacy. It kept her from being completely her.

The next move in her sequence stretched her arms straight up high above her head. She executed the move perfectly, but with a significant grimace to her face. The ribs still hurt, but she didn't shy away from pushing through. That, too, was a good sign.

He watched her, completely extended, holding that position for the requisite time. It gave him a few quick seconds to realize that in addition to the pain, he could see her collar bones, ribs, and hips. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her eat a whole meal.

With Ontera behind them maybe now she could take the last few steps to heal. While she would never know what the next gate would hold, knowing that she didn't have to go back to that place again may have been exactly what she needed. She faced her fear, and he had seen that be a source of great healing for others.

She was so close to being back.


	12. Chapter 12

Evan was glad to be on the mission board for the next Herald mission. Even with Ronon there, he didn't like leaving Jennifer's safety to others. Especially not after Ontera.

He was not surprised to hear her doing some sort of breathing exercise as she dialed. Then she took in and let out a very long breath as the gate connected. There was something particularly uneasy about the first time visiting any of the Pegasus worlds. He was used to it – a military team was always first in. They usually didn't bring Jennifer to a world unless they had already been there and assessed it.

And after the last planet, he understood her hesitation.

As the team formed up on the other side, the first thing they noticed was the odd location of the gate. It was literally right in the middle of the town square. There were shops and houses just steps away, and an abundance of color. Banners, ribbons, flowers everywhere in bright colors.

There were bells chiming around the square. Men brought the children of the town to the ring, and they gathered baskets with flower petals and sheets of brightly colored silks. The children skipped in circles around the outside of the ring, as the women of the town arrived. It struck Lorne immediately that this world seemed ready for Jennifer's arrival. That or they had this outpouring of color and excitement everyday and today they were just lucky, but that didn't seem likely.

Objectively, Lorne had to say this may have been the most beautiful group of women he had ever seen at one time in one place - each of them in what seemed like a color specifically chosen for them. The men of the town backed up and formed a much larger circle, clapping a rhythm as the women began to dance in a circle the opposite direction than the children were moving.

It was mesmerizing. The color. The movement. The music. Where was the music even coming from? Evan couldn't tell.

Two young girls stepped forward with flowers and offered them to Jennifer. She accepted the gift, and the girls put out their hands to lead Jennifer into the dance. Jen smiled with a real happiness she had misplaced for weeks, and when she looked to her protectors for consent, they all seemed content to let her dance. When they took a step forward to follow her into the group of children, an exquisite woman with dark hair and green eyes put her hand on Sheppard's shoulder. With her other hand, she wagged a finger in front of him.

"This is a custom only for women. You may join the men in the back if you wish."

John actually looked momentarily distracted by her beauty, but regained his composure just in time for Teyla shove him aside and stand in his place.

"I am Council to the Herald. I will accompany her."

"Of course," the woman said, and gestured with her hand for Teyla to follow Jennifer.

The children pulled Jennifer into their group, forming a line with their hands and created a spiral. As the line wove through itself, Jennifer circled until her line met the circle of women dancing in the other direction, and she was situated into that line instead. The group unfurled sheets of cloth and began trailing them behind the dancers as their speed increased. The music got louder. And there was a smell in the air now, incense or spice.

Evan shook his head as he realized that he was feeling uneasy - not steady; foggy somehow. The others were looking the same and began scanning the crowd for Jennifer and Teyla. Between the banners and ribbons and sheets of cloth and the flower petals, Jennifer and Teyla were nowhere to be found. It was chaos, but an exquisitely orchestrated one. The team pointed in a direction and began to move, but they took only steps before the children mobbed impeding their progress.

A bell rang a new pattern in the square and all motion and sound ceased.

An older woman with a pleasant countenance stepped forward and the children made way for her. Other women followed behind with baskets of fruit, bread, cheese and wine.

"Where is the Herald?" Evan demanded.

The woman's eyes got wide in surprise. "You are very brave to speak to me, man. That is usually not allowed. But this is such a special occasion we will be lenient."

Lorne looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else on Team Herald knew what he had done wrong.

"Why brave?" he asked.

"Men here don't speak unless spoken to. You should try it."

Evan kept a smile on his face, despite the obvious attempt to provoke him.

"Ma'am," he said bowing slightly, "We are anxious to know the location of the Herald. Can you direct us?"

"Better," she answered, acknowledging his attempt at reverence.

"You have access to the town square. Here is food and drink for you. You may take rest in the house here with blue door."

"Where is Jennifer?" Ronon demanded.

"Elisha needs to speak to the Herald. The Herald and her Council will be back soon. By nightfall, I would expect. If the Herald wishes to stay longer, it will be longer."

"And if she wants it to be shorter?" Evan inquired.

"We will fulfill our duty to the Ancients. We serve the Herald. She is not a prisoner."

She turned and left with no additional explanation. Looking at each other, the team decided to step into their designated rest location and figure out next steps. They kept watch at the door, they ate, they played cards. Ronon paced. Evan tried to engage him in conversation but despite the comfort level of their holding cell, it was still a holding cell.

The men of the town brought cargo to the ring, stacked neatly for transport to Atlantis. Around midday they heard a cheering in the square, and looked out at the ring. The difference in the picture was not noticeable at first, but then it struck Evan. "The DHD is there now."

John came to the doorway. "They held the choosing ceremony already?"

"In one visit?" Meyers asked, skeptically.

"In one day?" Matthews added.

"She didn't talk it over with us," John noted out loud.

"Maybe she got what she needed," Meyers speculated.

"Or maybe she wasn't given a choice," Ronon growled.

"Let's keep on the bright side, Chewy. Teyla is with her and they make a formidable team. And a DHD makes the return trip a lot easier on the Doc."

The waiting continued.

It was just as the sun started to set in the sky that the old woman from the morning discussion entered with a younger woman and Teyla. Teyla gave an assuring nod to the team that all was well, and the older woman came to stand in front of Ronon.

"You are the Herald's mate?"

Ronon nodded.

"You may walk beside her." Looking to the rest of the group she questioned them. "And you are her honor guard?"

Teyla was carefully nodding yes to prompt them in the right answer.

"Yes," Sheppard answered.

"Then you may take any defensive positions you deem appropriate, although they will be unnecessary. Councilor Teyla has explained your function. We have seen the damage done by others along the Journey, and we respect the need to be vigilant."

The younger woman dropped two satchels on the ground at Evan's feet. "You will carry these for the Herald."

Evan lifted them, sizing them up. "What's in them?"

The younger woman looked to the older for permission to answer him. When she received a nod she explained tersely. "Medicinal herbs. And her clothes."

As the team looked from one to the other, Teyla motioned with her hand for everyone to remain calm.

"The Herald comes," the older woman stated when she heard the bell in the square. She gestured for the team to exit the building. They grabbed their gear and the satchels and made their way outside.

Apparently bringing the Herald back to the gate was a complicated as squirreling her away. While they stood on the steps to the building, Lorne, Teyla and Sheppard spoke briefly.

"Is the Doc ok?" Sheppard asked.

"She is well. She said to tell you it was a much needed 'spa day' and that you would know what that meant."

"So we've been worried all day and she has been getting a message?"

"I believe there was a massage. And food, and drink. And …. ornamentation," she added as though she was looking for the right word.

"Ornamentation?" John asked, nervously, but Teyla continued.

"Also, this world is quite advanced in its understanding of the body. As a healer, Jennifer was fascinated."

"How much did she drink?" Lorne questioned.

"Very little, just a small bit at the beginning to be polite. And a little more as the day went on. There was an awkwardness to some of their requests."

"Like…," Evan asked, not liking the way that sounded.

"See for yourself," Teyla responded as Jennifer came into view.

Ronon was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for the procession to reach them so he could join her. Evan couldn't see the look on his face, or read his mind, but if it was anything like the rest of them, they were in awe.

Jennifer walked down the side of the square towards the house surrounded by children. They pushed and jockeyed to be close to her, and just like she had done on Keltiga, she found a moment and a smile for each. Her uniform gone, it was replaced by a silk dress like the other women wore, but in a purple color that no one else had on. It was fitted to her form, well fitted, over one shoulder and down below her knees. It had layers of fabric, with some flow, but her shape was clear to all. Her hair was flowing with an occasional small braids and beads adorning it, giving it texture and depth. She had a small satchel over one shoulder and strapped in a thin leather band across her body was a silver dagger.

All of which was distractingly beautiful, but her skin: her skin was a masterpiece. Ornately drawn designs that scrolled and spiraled from her hands to her shoulders and disappeared beneath her dress. They were captivating; she was captivating. Evan had always thought Jennifer was beautiful, but this was a whole new level.

When they got close enough, Ronon walked to meet her. She gave him one of her hands. He took it to his lips and kissed her. The Honor Guard fell in behind, and they closed the short distance to the gate. An open gate meant that the dialing worked like it did on Atlantis, and Jennifer had merely touched the DHD for it to bring them and some rolling crates of cargo home.

Everyone in the gateroom noticed Jennifer. How could they not, Evan wondered. She was nothing like the Doctor they saw in the infirmary. Nothing like the girl-next-door she normally embodied. No – this was something very different: bewitching and enchanting. All beauty and radiance and poise.

Ronon was not easily distracted by the finer things, but Evan could tell the sight of Jennifer in this state affected his mind. He had became territorial, possessive the minute he saw her. His hands were on her every minute since she returned to them on the planet, in one way or another, and even now, as the event horizon closed, Ronon put his hand across Jennifer's back, coming to rest on the opposite hip, and was guiding her out of the room.

John leaned to his second in command.

"Have a team clear the hallways from here to their quarters ASAP," he directed.

Lorne smiled. "Think Ronon will kill anyone who looks at her looking like that?"

"No," John said with a smirk. "I'm not sure they'll make it to their room."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N - Mostly just steam. Earning my T rating. If it isn't your cup of tea, feel free to skip down to the divider, or just hold on. Next chapter will be along shortly and you won't lose the flow of the story. Thanks for reading. -Kalli_

Ronon stood in the middle of the living room admiring his wife.

"What a gift you are to my life – how you've changed it," he said in low tones as he kissed her neck and face.

She joined him in the kiss, pulling him down to deepen it, lengthen it. His hands roamed freely over her body, taking in every one of her curves. He removed the satchel she wore on her shoulder, divested her of the dagger and its holder, and searched for an entrance to access her body. He wanted to freely explore the softness of her skin – to see the rest of the patterns drawn on her form. The dress she wore was too tight to hitch up or slide off, and while he knew he was distracted by an ever increasing need, he still could find no way to relieve her of the silky material.

Then he growled. "In about ten seconds I am going to cut this damn thing off of you," he said as he continued to pull at its edges.

Jennifer giggled and stepped back from him, breaking their contact. "A gift, huh?" she questioned.

He nodded.

She reached into the dress on the side that rolled over her shoulder and pulled out an end to the fabric that had been meticulously wrapped around her body to create the illusion of an actual dress.

"Unwrap me."

His smile was wicked as he took hold of the fabric. He tugged and she turned to unfold the first layer. He came to see that the dress was no more than a very long piece of silk, a foot wide. Starting at the top, the first layer began to peel. Top to bottom the layer was removed by Jennifer spinning opposite of the tension of the fabric. When it reached the bottom and started to unravel the second layer Ronon finally got what he was looking for.

He stopped her movement and instead of her spinning, her unwrapped the last layer himself, circling her and covering her with kisses as he went.

"Close your eyes," he commanded.

He could tell she didn't know where to expect the next kiss, and that the anticipation was killing her.

When he was finished, she stood naked before him, her eyes closed, the designs painted on her body in brown dye softly contrasting with her beautiful skin. He scooped her into his arms and brought her to the bed, laying her down. He lifted her arms high above her head and took the strip of fabric. Wrapping it around one wrist and then the other, he placed the cloth in her hand. A binding she completely controlled.

"Hold onto that as long as you can," he instructed.

She had a low, throaty laugh that he felt through her that made it impossible to keep his hands off her for even a second more.

He worked his way down her body, sucking on her breasts, and down to her stomach. His hands traced the outline of her ribs as his body moved lower. He reached her hips as his knees parted her legs, bending her knees and finally putting his arms under her bent legs to hold her hips in place. That was when he let his tongue find her.

Her first reaction was a moan, and then a squeal as he made circles in her most sensitive spot. As he explored between her folds she arched her back and moaned again. She shifted in position, but he held tight to her hips. His intention was to overwhelm her with pleasure, and he wouldn't allow her to soften the contact to catch her breath.

When she settled again he let go and brought a hand down to her slit, teasing her with his tongue while his fingers entered her. The ocean of her wetness would have made him lose it right then and there if he were a lesser man, but you couldn't be a lesser man and love Jennifer Keller.

When she came he looked up from between her legs. Her eyes were still closed, she still held the cloth in her hand, her face was flush with heat and need.

He shrugged off his own clothes and came to rest on top of her, grinding to her. She lifted her hips to encourage him, but he took his time, eliciting a soft groan.

"Do you feel strong?"

"Yes"

"Do you feel sexy?"

"Yes"

"Do you feel free?"

"Yes. And yours. Make me yours."

He drove into her bringing the ache they both shared to a fever pitch. Her nails dug into his back and he realized she had released the cloth. She gently scratched along his sides as he set a rhythm that was made precisely for them.

They rode like this for as long as their bodies would hold out. Changes to the rhythm and the angle brought her to release multiple times, and finally he was unable to keep himself from following her over the edge. Heavy breathing and intertwined limbs gave way to kisses and gentle touches. He leaned down to her chest and kissed her scar – peppered it from top to bottom.

So close to losing her.

He shuddered thinking about it, and settled down next to her on the bed. He pulled a blanket over them, pulled her tight to his arms, and they drifted to sleep.

.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

.

They finally got around to their post-mission physicals early the next morning. She tried to sneak quietly into the medbay to talk to Carson, but he greeted her loudly with his normal energy and charm.

"Nice of you to join us, lass. You know post mission physicals are supposed to be done when you get back, not whenever you remember."

She laughed at his admonishment and joking tone.

"Sorry, Carson," she said. "It was a long day."

"We finished everyone's but you and Ronon. No environmental contaminants, haven't found anything interesting. How about you? Exposed to anything the others weren't?"

"Um, yeah," she responded looking for words.

As Carson went to unzip the jacket she wore over her clothes, Jennifer's hand stopped him.

"Can we do this in one of the private rooms?" she asked. "And can I ask a favor?"

He seemed concerned when she stopped him, and quickly agreed to her request. She gave a nod to Ronon who was getting his physical done to let him know everything was alright, and followed Carson to a private exam room. She unzipped her jacket and hopped up on the exam table revealing a small bralette with thin straps over her shoulders and exposed everything beneath it to the band of her leggings. Visible everywhere were the designs that had so carefully been drawn all over her body.

"Well, none of the others came back like that, I can tell you," Carson noted, looking all around her torso and back at the details. "Any pain, burning, numbness?" he asked as his fingers traced the lines examining her skin.

"No. It wasn't like a tattoo. It was like a paintbrush. If I don't look at them," she said, putting her arms in front of her to see the patterns, "I wouldn't even know they were there."

"So what was the favor?" Carson asked while continuing to examine the marks.

"I was hoping you could photograph them. I don't think they are permanent, and I don't know what they mean. I just… I don't feel comfortable asking anyone but you and Ronon, and I don't think he would be comfortable doing it."

"Of course."

Carson took his obligatory blood sample, and then got to work. She handed him a data pad and he set out grabbing captures of all of the designs. He also used the time to check progress on the still healing scars on Jennifer's back and chest.

"The wounds are healing nicely," he noted encouragingly.

"They rubbed some herbs on them they said would assist with the healing process. They were amazing. In most worlds any one of them would be described as a healer. They sent me back with samples and supplies. Just not sure when I will get to them." She held up the bag of herbs and compounds they sent back with her, and left them on the counter.

"I'll get them secured and start looking at them. We can go over the data together when you get back to CMO'ing."

She smiled and thanked him, grabbing the data pad and heading out to meet Ronon.


	14. Chapter 14

Probing searches in each direction had yielded no clues.

As they came through the gate they were close to twilight in a wide open world. There was nothing visible from the gate for miles. There were foot hills and mountains far in the distance, but nothing they would reach before dark.

No trails, no structures, no tracks.

Nothing.

John pulled the team together. "Nothing else to be done tonight. We'll set camp here and make another foray in the morning. Maybe by then they'll have figured out the Herald is here and come out to say hello," he said with a smile at Jennifer.

"If we don't find anything, we can bring Rodney back in a few days – see if he can get us a direction."

Jen nodded. Plan sounded as good as anything. In all of the other worlds, people were waiting for the Herald. On this planet she wasn't sure if there was even anyone here.

They built a fire with some brush and ate the food from their meal packs. Jennifer sat by the fire while the others talked terrain and best ideas for directions in the morning. They never took their eyes off her completely, though. She could tell. So when she saw what she thought was a person approaching from the other side of the fire – she called Ronon's name quietly only to find he was already standing over her.

The man came closer, slowly. Very slowly. He took a direct route, with his hands up as if he was being held at gunpoint.

And in just a few more steps, he was.

John and Meyers trained their guns on him as he took his last few steps, and Jennifer could see the controlled fear in his eyes.

He turned slowly, his hands still up, making a full circle so they could see he had nothing behind his back. Then he lifted his tunic slowly so that they could see the band of his pants, and he circled again.

"Hello," John said, trying to be conversational. "I'm Colonel Sheppard." He shouldered his weapon and stepped towards the visitor with his hand extended to greet him, but the man completely ignored him, keeping his eyes on Jen.

Jennifer stood. She motioned for Meyers to put down his weapon, and for everyone to take a few steps back. Her instincts proved right, because as they retreated the visitor took the last cautious steps to the fire. Jennifer gestured, inviting him to join her at the fire, which he did without a sound. They sat down around the perimeter of the warmth. He was uncomfortable, and Jennifer just sat a little ways to his side giving him time to adjust.

The only words Jennifer could think of to describe him were a regular looking guy. Light brown hair, parted on top -short to his neck and slightly disheveled. His clothes were loose, of neutral colors. He wore sandals on his feet, and carried nothing with him. No water, no food, no weapon, no light. In the chill of the night he warmed his hands by the fire, and every few minutes he would adjust his position to get a little closer to Jen.

Ronon stood perched above her. Motionless. Her silent protector. It gave her courage.

When the stranger came to sit next to her he never made eye contact. He leaned in twice as if to start a conversation but not quite being able to get anything else.

"I am…," Jennifer started, only to have him finally be able to speak.

"The Herald. I know who you are." His tone was even with no anger or reverence.

"I'm glad to meet to you," Jennifer continued.

"We are not glad to meet anyone." He said. Then he made eye contact, and held a very gentle expression. "I mean no disrespect, Herald. That's just our way."

Again he seemed to struggle for words or courage or both.

"How can I make this easier on you?" Jennifer asked, seeing his discomfort.

The visitor rose and faced the Jennifer and the whole group.

"You can leave. Now. As soon as you can. If you return in two days' time we will bring all that we owe to the Ancients. We'll have it here for you to take. You will close the ring and be gone."

"What if we have questions? Don't you have a whole thing where you tell us about your part of the Journey?" John queried.

The visitor did not acknowledge him. He only looked at Jennifer. "We are not a very advanced or complicated people, Herald. The Ancients brought us things to hold for you, which we have done. They promised you would close the ring forever so that no others would ever journey here. Return in two days. We will bring everything here to this clearing. It will take many to get it back to wherever you are taking it. We do not engage with outsiders. I am the only one who is permitted to speak to an Other, and the only Other I am permitted to speak to is you."

"You want us to pack up and go in the middle of the night?" John asked.

Again, the visitor spoke only to Jennifer. "Please gather your council and go. I will see you again in two days."

He bowed to Jennifer in respect, and then turned and walked away the direction he came. When he was out of sight the group gathered and made a plan.

"So I guess we go?" Jennifer asked.

"We go," John decided. "We'll bring scanners back in 2 days and see if we can find anything they might be hiding. In the meantime, we take them at their word."

"Two days will be a quick turn-around for Jennifer," Evan mentioned.

"How are you feeling?" John asked her.

"Fine. But getting here is the easy part. We'll know more after we herald back"

"Herald back?" Meyers asked.

Jennifer giggled. "That's what Chuck calls it. I don't dial the gate like normal, so he says I "herald" the gate."

The walk back to the gate was full of conjecture: what had the Ancients hidden here and how many people would they need to bring it all back to Atlantis.

.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

.

Once through the gate, the casual pace and easy discussion came to an abrupt end.

"Conference room please, Colonel Sheppard," was the greeting John got when Woolsey saw him.

"Well, it's good to see you too?" John answered in an unsure voice. He looked up and saw a nervous and excited Rodney and Zelenka on the catwalk. They were arguing over a datapad and heading to the meeting room. He waved Lorne over. "Get everyone through medicals. You know the drill – Doc first. Everything else can wait. After that come back and meet me up there. I get the feeling there's something not-good going on." He handed off his vest and P90 to Matthews, and went to find out what was wrong.

"Back sooner than expected," Woolsey stated, but the question was implied.

"They're not too keen on outsiders. They asked us to leave and come back in two days to get their 'tribute to the ancients'."

"What is it?" Rodney asked.

"No idea," John answered.

"Do you have any indication yet on how long the Herald Journey is or how long it's going to take?" Woolsey inquired.

"Not really," John said truthfully.

"Well we may be out of time," Rodney stated ominously.

"What does that mean?"

Zelneka, who had temporarily wrestled control of the datapad, tapped it and turned it towards John.

"This afternoon long ranges sensors picked up two Wraith cruisers in route to Atlantis."

"How far out?"

"Ten days," Rodney answered.

"Why so little notice? We usually see them weeks out," John asked.

"Could be damage to the long range sensors beacons. Could be they have a new way to hide their approach. Could be that they have figured out how to go a lot faster. But at this speed and heading, we have ten days," Rodney explained.

"What did SGC say?"

"Nothing yet. We're sending it in the data burst tonight. We'll know in the morning."

Rodney and Zelenka excused themselves, and John had a moment to speak to Woolsey alone.

"What do you want to do about the Journey?" John asked the Expedition Leader.

"I think we may have to suspend it for now," Woolsey answered. John could tell he was nervous. This would be the first Wraith encroachment into Atlantis space with Woolsey at the helm. He was predictably cautious, and exceptionally apprehensive.

"I'd suggest maybe taking the trip in two days anyway. These people seem particularly nervous. I don't want to spook them. And they don't want us there. I would imagine it's a one day adventure, like today. If they have something that can help us with the Wraith, I'd like to know what it is."

"Understood. That's fine. But we may need to have to make some hard decisions soon, Colonel. I know that we aren't supposed to try and decipher what the pieces of the Herald puzzle mean until we have all of them, but we may need to see if any of it can help us in the here and now."

"Keltiga warned us against it, " John reminded him. "So did Carter."

"Well the science contingent was lobbying with vigor all afternoon to at least speed up the analysis of the tributes."

"Mallan said," John started, only to be interrupted.

"Mallan said to wait. I know. But we have two problems. First, we made need some of the tributes here to defend the city, and second, we don't want the Wraith reaching the city and getting their hands on any of it. Like I said, tough choices."

John nodded thoughtfully.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I'll authorize McKay and Zelenka to spend some time in the Herald Lab looking at the tech we have. We'll just have to see what happens with the next tribute."


	15. Chapter 15

Jennifer named the planet Xeno. They didn't like outsiders, didn't tell them what planet they were on, didn't speak to anyone except Jennifer, and wanted the planet's gate closed forever. Maybe they weren't the classic definition of xenophobic, but it was close enough that Jen went with it. Besides, "planet of people who don't like outsiders' took too long to say.

She touched the gate with the Herald Team on the platform, and headed through the event horizon that appeared. Another beautiful day on Xeno, it seemed. Everything looked exactly the same as last time, except that there were eight Puddle Jumper looking craft lined up in two rows of four in front of the gate.

"Wohoo!" she heard someone cheer as they saw them. There was a "hell, yeah" from someone else, and a "sweet" as well. Air Force boys and marine pilots - they did like shiny flying toys.

The same man from the fire two nights ago stood up from next to one of the craft and approached Jennifer slowly. The excitement was momentarily tempered as everyone went into protect mode, but he paid them no mind. "We have kept the craft and their cargo safe as promised. You will find it all in pristine condition, undisturbed."

He reached behind him and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. He never looked anywhere but Jennifer, but seemed to know that handing something to her directly would be frowned upon. He handed it off to the side and Lorne stepped forward and took it. Unwrapping it, he found the silver dagger that was this planet's contribution to Jennifer's collection. Lorne slid it in the pocket of his BDU's while Jennifer continued the conversation.

"The choosing stone is this way, Herald. I must ask that you close the gate now and go."

"Whoa," John interjected. "Hate to challenge your math skills, but only a few of us can pilot one of those, and there are eight of them to get through the gate."

Knowing that the man wouldn't respond to John, Jennifer spoke to him directly.

"We will need a few hours to figure this out. It will take multiple trips to get these back through the gate. We need time."

"You have today. We will hold the choosing this afternoon, and then you will close the gate and go. If you don't, or if you leave without fulfilling your end of the promise, the craft are gone. I assure you, we have plenty of people who can fly them."

The man walked off and left the Atlantis team by itself to formulate a plan.

"That's three trips through the gate," Jennifer said.

"How do you figure three?" Sheppard asked.

"One to send you back to get some more ATA genes and figure out where to park them, one to bring you all back here, and one to get us all home.

"No way," Lorne objected. "Mallan said a few days between trips. You can't herald the gate three times in one day."

"I can try," Jennifer said.

Ronon shook his head once to let her know it was not his favorite idea, but said nothing. She could feel his tension.

"They probably can't make us leave," John offered. "They seem too scared to engage. I think he's bluffing. We can probably take as long as we need."

"Would make for a long few nights. They know the terrain and we don't," Lorne said.

"We can't stretch it out that far. If we tried to make three days between trips that would put us up against when the Wraith will be at Atlantis," Jennifer reasoned.

"We could cut it to two trips if you came back with us," Lorne suggested.

"Leave people trapped here with no way out and risk the locals taking the ships back if they were offended at the Herald's departure? I don't think so," Jen argued.

"OK," John decided. "We'll try it. If any of us get even the first inkling that you are having trouble, we're pulling the plug." He looked sternly at Jennifer. "And if you start to feel strained and don't tell us that very second, I will personally kick your ass back to Atlantis."

Jen smiled at him.

"Lorne," John barked.

"Yes, Sir," the Major dutifully replied.

"Head back through. You have," John looked at his watch, "three hours from now." Even synced his watch to the time stamp as John continued. "You, Meyers and Matthews. We need eight jumper pilots. I'm one, you are two, so come back with six more. Top priority, no matter what else they're doing. And talk to the techs about a place to park our new acquisitions. We'll dial you up in three hours to get everyone here." He looked at Jennifer. Hopefully then we can buy some more time, do the ceremony, and head home."

Jen nodded. It was the best plan. "Ready?" she asked Lorne. He gave a slap to Meyers and Matthews shoulders and they positioned themselves at the gate. He nodded, and Jen reached to the small of her back and grabbed a blade. Slicing her hand and rubbing them together, Jennifer engaged the gate. Once the men were through, she quickly removed her hands, letting the event horizon close naturally a moment later. Ronan wrapped her hand, and looked her in the eyes. She nodded to him, confirming that she was ok.

Then she looked up at John, who made a suggestion.

"Well, we have three hours to kill. Let's go see what they meant by cargo."

After a cursory inspection of the crates in all the jumpers, John, Teyla, Ronan and Jennifer were looking over the features of the new Jumpers to see what they could do. John wanted to take one out for a spin, but Jennifer convinced him it might offend their hosts. They explored the ships and looked at the cargo and the time passed quickly. He glanced at his watch and then got her attention.

"It's time, Doc."

She nodded and headed over to the ring. She unwrapped the bandage that Ronon had given her hours ago, and decided to reopen the last cut instead of opening a new one. She activated the gate with Ronon at her side, and was relieved when the last of the eight people came through. Once the team was accounted for, Jennifer released the gate. She slumped momentarily to Ronon's chest, feeling his arms surround her for support.

He steadied her, looking for signs that anything was wrong.

Jen took an inventory of the sensations. The vibrations she felt stopped, the pain was subsiding. She took a deep breath as John wrapped her hand. Then looking at her two protectors, she attempted to calm them.

"I'm fine. Really."

With everyone gathered, the team started to look over the craft. Puddle Jumper 2.0, or PJ2 for short. She was informed that's what people had decided to call them while they were waiting at the gate in Atlantis. That's the other you thing she could be sure of - everyone in the expedition loved to name things. Assured that the group would look and not touch, and that the cargo would remain unbothered, the new arrivals stayed behind and Jen led the others in the direction of the choosing stone.

The same man from the fire was the one at the stone. He said the words, Jennifer told him the Ancients thanked him, and she heard the rumble as the choosing stone disappeared.

"Goodbye, Herald," the man said kindly.

"We'll be just a while to get organized. With the gate closed I will need to rest a little longer before I can open it again for our departure. We will look to be gone by sundown."

He nodded. "I understand. That is agreeable."

Back to the group, they had built a small fire as they waited for Jennifer to return. She could hear Rodney reminding people he had important things to do back on Atlantis and couldn't sit around all day. She should have been annoyed, but it made her chuckle.

John came to stand in front of her.

"I'm going to get this group organized; assign Jumpers, give them an order number, explain how it is all going to work. Relax for a few over here and we will get started when the sun starts to set."

When he was done giving directions he came back and explained to Jen, Ronan, Matthews and Teyla what was going to happen. He told her that the non-military pilots were going through first; that he was going through last. That her safety was the most important thing. That the second it got too much she should break the connection. If that meant some of them had to spend the night or they didn't get all the jumpers then he could live with that.

"I can do this," she assured them.

"I'll be in touch with Matthews on comms. When I go through, you guys come right after. We have to give everyone a chance to clear the arrival area so we don't play bumper jumper on the other side. It will be longer than usual for you to hold it open. You worry about you. We'll worry about everything else."

She nodded, and everyone took their places. Jumpers lifted off the ground and moved into their transit formation. Jennifer took her position with Teyla and Ronan supporting her and removed her bandage from earlier in the day. She chose the hand she hadn't used yet on this trip and spreading her blood across both palms, she placed them flat on the ring. It roared to life, and as the event horizon opened, she just noticed Matthews playing traffic cop and sending the first Jumper through.

The first few moved quickly, but as the process continued Jennifer began to feel the strain. Her arms began to burn, and she could feel only vibration and hear only white noise. Teyla was speaking to her, but nothing was understood. Jen tried to answer, but all that came out was a low roar. In her determination to get everyone home, Jennifer knew she was pushing further than she should. That thought quickly flashed through her brain before the next round of tension hit her body.

A flash of pain came through her that was more than she had ever felt from the bond. Ronon hold her tighter, and she looked at Matthews. He was holding up one finger to let her know there was one more Jumper to go. Figuring there were twenty to thirty seconds between jumpers, Jennifer tried counting in her head. She could do it for thirty more seconds. She could do anything for thirty seconds. Except count. Too many sensations flooded her entire body and she lost her place. She closed her eyes and just trusted Ronon and Teyla to help her.

Finally she felt the pull on her arms and realized the Jumpers were through. The vibrations had locked her arms in place, and without the assistance from Ronon and Teyla, Jen wasn't sure she could have unbonded them from the ring herself. Her head was a sea of noise, and when Matthews tried to wrap her hand while Ronon held her upright, but she pulled it back and covered her ears, smearing blood across her face as she did. But there was no dulling a noise that was only inside her head.

The glimpse of Ronon's face she caught was dripping with concern. When she hesitated to take steps towards the gate, he gathered her up in his arms and alongside Teyla and Matthews, he brought her home.


	16. Chapter 16

John had barely gotten his Jumper on the ground when he heard the call on his comm unit.

"Medical personnel to the gate."

"Damn it!" he swore under his breath. Jen had promised she would be careful, but must have pushed herself to far.

And then a revised announcement. "Medical team, stand down. They are coming to you."

John knew what that meant, too. That meant Ronon was carrying Jennifer. That was his way: big and brooding with an aversion to waiting for anything, especially it if involved Jen.

Carson piloted the first jumper back, so John assumed he was already heading back that way. John took off in the same direction. When he got to the infirmary Jennifer was on an examination table with Carson and Ronon on either side of her. She was cleaning blood off her face, and Carson was shining a light in her eyes. He headed right for them.

"What did I tell you, Doc?" John asked with a hint of authority and more than a hint of annoyance.

"I'm fine, Colonel, really."

"You've looked better," he jabbed, but then added with a smile to take the edge off.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel her best."

John watched Ronon's hand gently trace her hair. She said she was fine, but Ronon was still worried.

Carson gave his observations. "OK. So far so good. Reflexes and neurological reactions are fine. You're dehydrated…."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, but Carson continued in earnest.

"We're going to clean you up, get your hands taken care of, and get you an IV….."

"Carson," Jennifer whined. "I don't need …"

Carson cut her off. "You do. As I was saying. We'll get an IV going to alleviate the dehydration. No medication for the headache yet – I want to run some more blood tests. If you behave yourself for the next hour or so you can sleep in your own bed tonight. If not, you sleep here."

Jennifer faked shock at his tone, but seemed to take it well. She took off her uniform jacket and dutifully extended her arm for Marie to get her IV going.

John reported to Dr. Cole for his post mission medical, which was quick and in all ways uneventful. He could see Jennifer and Ronon from his vantage point across the room. The color was coming back to her face, and he was relaxing. As much as he relaxed. When they finished with John he headed over to the pair.

"Hey, Chewie. Go get your medical done. I'll sit with her for a few minutes."

Ronon nodded, kissed Jen on the head, and went over to Dr. Cole.

"Why do I think I'm about to get a lecture?" Jennifer asked.

"What would I have to lecture you about?" John countered.

"You heard Carson. I'm fine."

"You don't need to push so hard, Doc."

"Everybody is pushing themselves, John. For the Journey. For the Herald. For me. I need to do everything I can."

"If something happens to you, there is no Journey. And if something happens to you," he said using his head to point across the room to Ronon, "he won't survive it."

He seemed to get his point across. Jennifer looked appropriately thoughtful about his words, so he let it go.

When Ronon came back John clapped him on the shoulder. "Gonna go clean up. Give me a shout when you are done here and we can grab some dinner." With that he left the couple alone.

.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

.

Banks walked down the hall with a spring in his step. His first off-world mission complete and it was a total success. Just a quick 'protect a botanist' mission, but a mission, none the less. A lot fewer missions on the schedule while all the Team Herald stuff was going on. He was glad to get his first one out of the way. Figuring out your place on the expedition wasn't that easy. Lots of unwritten rules, lots of people who saw you as a replacement for someone they lost – the beginning could be a little rough.

But he had a little something extra to keep him busy while the Atlantis mission board was slow.

He had been approached by someone from SGC for a special mission. He was skeptical at first, but the woman had a lot of details about Atlantis and seemed to be on the inside. She needed to get a message to someone at Atlantis, but not through regular channels. She said that they were testing to see if their comms were compromised and if readiness was high, and so she needed a message delivered in person, and with very specific instructions. He was to wait until the conditions were perfect, and it needed to be undetected by anyone else. There was no timetable, just a requirement to get it right.

And a bonus.

He heard that SGA duty was pure bank anyway. Nothing to spend money on there, and hazard pay to boot. And now a little bonus check deposited in his account. He was going to be in good shape when he got home.

So now, a few weeks into being on Atlantis, it all finally came together.

He was in the gym, empty with the regular dinner rush, and in walked the recipient of his secret message. He felt goofy – a grown man walking up to another grown man and speaking in code. He was half afraid the guy was going to either turn around and deck him or laugh at him. But five grand is five grand. And another five when the lady confirmed the message was delivered successfully. Who knew how that would happen.

He walked to the light panel and killed the lights, causing the other person in the room to say a grumbled "What the hell?"

Here went nothing.

"Major Abatello," Banks said in the dark. "Over here for a sec, let me show you something."

Telo followed a flashlight beam to where Banks was standing by a wall. Banks took the flashlight and blinked it slowly on the wall at eye level.

"Hunter," he said, immediately causing Tello's shoulders to straighten and his body to come to attention.

"Kill the rabbit."

Abatello turned and left the room without a word.

Banks guessed the message received.


	17. Chapter 17

Jennifer tapped her thumbs on the exam table in boredom. She was fidgety, but attempting to not get into trouble with the Acting CMO. When Carson finally came over and gave her a last look, he was satisfied that the IV had done its job. Hands treated and wrapped and with a headache that would kill most people, Carson released her. She and Ronon went to their quarters. Carson had said rest. Ibuprofen, water, and rest. She was a pretty good doctor, too, though, so she was going to enhance those doctor's orders a little. For her it was shower, food, ibuprofen, water and rest. Ronon went to find Sheppard while Jennifer showered.

Hot shower complete and her most comfy sweats on, Jennifer headed to the mess. That was where she found the rest of the team. She made a small plate and joined them. She ate some, took her medicine and listened to the conversation. Ronon encouraged her to keep eating, but in the end she didn't have more than a few bites. She smiled and listened, but had a hard time concentrating. The table was shaking a little as Jennifer mindlessly tapped her feet and bounced her knee. Ronon put his arm around her and she leaned in against him. It was the only place she felt settled.

"You ok?" Ronon asked quietly.

"Yeah, just fidgety. I think I am going to go for a short walk and then head to bed.

"Want some company?"

"No, I don't think so. Let me clear my head a little. I'll catch up with you back at the room."

She said it kindly, with a smile, and hoped he wouldn't take offense. He squeezed her shoulders for moment and kissed her on the head. "As you will, little one."

Jennifer excused herself from the group. She disposed of her tray and headed out to the pier where she walked for a while. She should be tired, but she wasn't. She was full of a nervous energy that she couldn't shake. The more she walked the better she felt, until the headache had subsided. Her steps became faster, and evolved to a jog, which in no time became a run. She was close to her normal running path, and just let muscle memory take her away.

Step after step on the path she thought only about her breath and her pace. It was a relief to have no thought but repetition. When she was done the three miles had been more therapeutic than anything else could have been. And the first time she had gone a full three miles since Ontera. She came back inside even more energized and decided to swing by the gym to see if Ronon was there.

She didn't find Ronon, but she did find a few Marines getting ready to work out. They were friends of Ronon, people who had been included on SGA-1 missions with John. Assuming she was at the gym to work out, they invited her to join them. Jen declined, but wandered over to a punching bag on the wall. She took a ready position in front of it and punched once, followed by a leg kick.

Campbell saw her, and came to join. "I'll spot you, ma'am," he said. "Oh wait – let's get your hands taped up." Campbell moved to tape Jen's hands, stopping briefly at the sight of the bandages and waiting for her to tell him it was alright to continue. At her encouragement, he taped her up and took hold of the bag and held it for. She worked through the attack moves that Ronon had shown her, and executed them as intended. She smiled to herself when she surprised Campbell with the strength of her kicks. She hit the bag over and over, punching and kicking until she was winded. She leaned over, putting her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

As if on cue, the gym doors opened and Ronon and John walked in. John looked at Jennifer, and then at Ronon. "Definitely not sleeping, he said."

They had been talking about her.

Campbell excused himself, and Ronon crossed the room to lean against the wall near Jennifer.

"This doesn't look like a short walk or sleeping."

"I can't explain it. The more I walked the better I felt. Wound up running the short loop and then stopped in here to see if you were around. Saw the punching bag and decided to hit something."

"Well, I understand the feeling of wanting to hit something, but if you have some energy to burn off I have plenty of other suggestions," he said with a sexy smile. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, and then opened her hand to put it on his heart. His expression changed to worry.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Jennifer, you opened the cut on your hand."

She looked down to see blood starting to show through the tape.

"Come on – let's get this looked at," he said.

"I can go. You and John came down here to spar. Neither of you are using me as an excuse not to get your time in."

"That can wait," Ronon said.

"Can, but doesn't need to." She put her hand softly on his chest. "I know how to get to the medbay."

She smiled and kissed him. "Don't hurt each other too much, boys," she called over her shoulder as she headed out.

Hitting the end of the evening, Jennifer crossed paths with almost no one as she travelled the hallways to the medbay. She was lost in her thoughts as she got closer, thinking about her day, flexing her hands, and removing the tape and bandages on her way.

She didn't feel the eyes on her or the boots closing on her from a distance.


	18. Chapter 18

Abatello saw her in the hallway approaching the infirmary.

 _Kill the rabbit._

Deciding it would be better to do it before she got to the medbay, he closed much of the distance between them and called for her.

"Dr. Keller."

She turned quickly to greet him. "Evening, Major Abatello."

 _Kill the rabbit._

He froze and became anxious. He reached down and put his hand on his side arm. Unclipping the holder with his thumb, he removed the safety as she made conversation.

"Are you on the Mission Board for the next mission? I am going to try and get Colonel Sheppard to authorize one more Herald mission before the Wraith get here. Do you think he'll go for it?"

He looked into her eyes with an anger burning inside him. She was a danger. She was a danger to the expedition. She was a danger to everything. She had to be stopped.

"Major?"

 _Kill the rabbit._

She waved her hand in front of his face and snapped.

"Major? Are you ok?" she asked.

 _Kill the rabbit._

"Rabbit," he said with contempt and tension in his voice. He began lifting his arm, 9mm ready, when Jen gripped his shoulders.

"Not Rabbit anymore, Major. Abatello. Talk to me."

Her hands slid from his shoulders to the bend of his elbow, as she held his arms in place. Her eyes were locked on his face. She hadn't seen the gun. Wouldn't even see it coming.

"Major?" She said and she moved her head to get into his line of vision, trying to make direct eye contact.

Someone had to stop her.

"Tello?"

Tello.

His breathing quickened. Only friends called him Tello.

He met her eyes and saw compassion. Friendship. She saw the face of a woman he trained at SGC. He saw someone who had intervened to save his career after he kidnapped her. He saw images of her saving the lives of his friends. He saw his own hand toasting her wedding.

No rabbit. Just Jennifer.

He felt the tension in his arms dissipate. He holstered his side arm. He shook his head to clear his vision, and blinked rapidly.

"Why don't you come on in, Tello. Let us check you out." Jennifer said with obvious concern.

He shook his head.

"Tello?"

"Are you ok, Dr. Keller?"

"Me? It's..."

She started to answer him, but he needed to get out of there. Away. Anywhere. He didn't even remember coming up to the infirmary. He remembered being in the gym, and then standing in front of Dr. Keller with his hand on his gun and wanting her dead. That couldn't be good.

He said nothing, and although he could hear her over his shoulder, he ignored the sound and took off down the hall. He had to get away.

* * *

Ronon finished sparring with John. They went a few good rounds before the long day and the gate trips and stress of Wraith they had no answer for took over.

Ronon left, returning to his quarters. He checked the bedroom, the balcony - just looking for any sign Jennifer had come and gone. It was quiet and exactly as he had left it before he had gone to spar. Jennifer hadn't made it back yet, and he decided to go find her.

He made his way to the infirmary first, and it was as far as he needed to look. One of the scientists had taken a hit to the head. Jennifer was stitching a small wound, while the man acted as though he might die from it.

He knew better than to interrupt her when she was helping someone. Nothing made her dig her heels in faster. Her patients were always first to her, unless of course she was the patient. He shook his head, but smiled at the same time. She gave him grief, but she was a much worse patient than he was.

He hung back out of view while she worked, and once her patient made their way out of the medbay he came in to see her. Her back to him she stood and rolled her neck slowly from side to side. Then she made circles with her shoulders as if she was trying to stretch out something deep inside. When her left shoulder was as low as she could get it, and her neck rolled as far right as it would go, he gently placed a kiss on it. He replaced his lips with his hands and massaged the area.

"Mmmmmm. That had better be Ronon or whoever you are, you're a dead man."

She reversed the stretch and he went to work on the other side, not needing to be told what her body needed. It was second nature to him now. He knew from the way she stood, or held herself, smiled or breathed what she needed.

"See, now I just want to see you kick someone's ass," he said with a laugh.

"Nah, 'cause then I'd just have to fix them up. It's less fun if you have to do the damage and the clean up."

"Are you trying to pick up night shifts, little one? I have better things to do with you in the night."

She giggled. "They were short staffed. After I got my hands rewrapped I offered to help. It was just a few stitches."

"Beckett said for you to rest, Jennifer."

"I know – I just have too much energy. Must be wound up from the day."

"I'll unwind you," he promised.

"Your hands are magic."

"Not only my hands."

He smiled when she blushed.

"Jennifer. Let's go."

"Sure, I just need to…"

And as she tried to take a step further into the infirmary his hands gripped her shoulders and refused to let her go. He turned her around and pulled her into his chest, giving her a hug.

"Are your hands good or do you need more treatment?"

"They're fine."

"Then we are going now."

It was unlike him to command her. He trusted her, loved her, worshiped her. To wear the Mark of her Will meant that he believed she could make any decision she needed to. But tonight, for whatever reason, she was unable to do what she knew was best for herself. Tonight she needed him to guide her.

She nodded. He slid his arm around her and walked her back to their room.


	19. Chapter 19

"Morning, Colonel," Lorne greeted as he came into his CO's office.

John could read him like a book. Took about ten seconds to see Lorne had something to say.

"Spit it out, Lorne."

"Yeah, so, someone didn't show up for work this morning."

"Military or civilian?"

"Military."

"Air Force or Marine?"

"Marine."

"Jacobs?"

"No, wait. Why would you think Jacobs?"

"You're the one who told me to guess. You don't like my answer?"

"It's not that," Lorne answered. "But Jacobs is so straight and narrow. I don't think he's been late a day in his life. For anything."

"I thought the point of the game was that the answer would be ironic," John responded with exasperation.

"Yeah, but.."

"Lorne!" Sheppard barked to get the junior officers attention. "Who is AWOL?"

"Abatello, sir."

"Abatello? Hmmm," he said with surprise. "And you've looked for him?"

"Isn't answering his radio, isn't in the mess, or the armory, or the medbay or the gym."

"Bet there's a good story," The Colonel said with a hint of mischief. "Let's find him."

"The old fashioned way?"

"God, no. I'm not high-tailing it all over the city to track him down." He touched his ear piece. "Rodney, run a city wide scan and find me a location on Major Abatello."

"Sub-Level two, section sixteen."

John closed the link with a thank you and repeated the location to Lorne. "Sub-Level two, section sixteen."

"Isn't that the brig?" Lorne questioned.

"Do we have personnel assigned to the brig when we have no prisoners?" John asked.

"No, we do not."

"Let's go."

It took the twosome about five minutes to make their way into the secured area. An interrogation table with chairs sat inside the door, and on the other three sides of the table were holding cells. They were predictably stark, with just a metal bench wide enough to be used for sleeping.

On the interrogation table was a communicator and a service revolver. And on the ground in the second cell, against the wall with his knees bent and his elbows on his knees was Major Abatello. Sheppard and Lorne passed concerned glances; a Marine separating themselves from their side arm like that usually had one of two causes: either they had done something they regretted, or were about to.

It meant they didn't trust themselves.

"Major," Sheppard said to get his attention.

"Sir," he responded, but didn't move and didn't make eye contact.

"Come on out of there, Tello," Lorne instructed.

Tello shook his head, making no other movement.

"Major Abatello!" Sheppard barked in his command voice. The sound went right to Abatello's muscle memory, and he jumped up to attention.

John looked him over. He was a mess, like he had been up all night. And maybe crying.

"Something wrong, Major?"

"Send me home."

It wasn't unusual for one of the younger kids to have some moments of doubt. Homesick. Worried about the approaching Wraith. Missing a girl. They all had something at one time or another. But Abatello was different. He was a combat vet – had already survived a lot. This was out of the ordinary.

"What's going on here, Tello?" Sheppard asked compassionately.

"Need to get away from Dr. Keller."

Lorne shook his head. "All in the past, Tello. Only person who is blaming you for all of that is you."

Abatello was shaking his head again. "Not for before. For now."

"What is now?"

"I want to kill Dr. Keller."

John felt his uneasiness grow. "Your job was to keep her safe, wasn't it, Major."

"Not now," he answered, clearly disgusted with himself. "Right now I want to kill Dr. Keller. I almost did it last night. You need you to get me away from her."

"What did you do, Major?" John asked with a seriousness that could be felt in the room.

"Nothing. I don't know. One minute I was in the gym getting ready to work out, and the next I was in front of Dr. Keller in the hallway with my hand on my side arm and all I could hear in my head was a voice telling me to kill her."

Sheppard looked over at Lorne, who was looking back with a troubled expression.

"What exactly did you hear in your head?"

"Kill the Rabbit."

"They told us that once you recognized a trigger was a trigger with your conscious mind that it lost its hold on you," Lorne reminded them.

"That's what they told me, too. But it's been ten hours and if I saw her right now I'd shoot."

John pulled Lorne over to the other side of the room, and spoke in hushed tones. "Heitmeyer is back on Earth, and they likely won't let her return until after the Wraith cruisers sort themselves out."

"Confine him to his quarters?"

"That may be all we can do."

Lorne picked up Tello's 9mm and headed for the door. "With me, Abatello," he said, the younger Major falling in line. As Lorne guided him out of the room, Sheppard had one more instruction for his second in command.

"Just between you and me until we know what is going on. Eventually we will need to Woolsey, and Carter, and O'Neill. And Jennifer," he added gravely.

"And Ronon," Lorne added, causing both of them to cringe.

Lorne led the younger Major out of the Brig as instructed, and John headed to Woolsey's conference room. Apparently Jennifer wanted to make a pitch that the team could get another Herald mission in before they had to suspend ops for the Wraith approach. John had plenty that needed to be done in the city, and didn't think it was the smart play.

"I don't like it," John asserted, putting his opinion out there first.

"I agree with the Colonel, Doctor. It's a bad time to be planning unpredictable off world missions," Woolsey added.

"We have to be getting close. What if the next stop it THE stop? What if it has what we need to destroy the Wraith?" Jennifer half asked, half pleaded.

"Dr. Keller, even if it did, there are a lot of steps between you going to the planet and the end of the Wraith. We are going to have to understand the technology, understand how they intended to use it, work with SGC and the IOA on how best to apply it. There isn't time," Woolsey asserted.

"We have eight days. No trip has lasted longer than three. We can get one more in before we have to stand down for the Wraith."

"There's a lot to do here in Atlantis. It just isn't a good …."

"We're close. I can feel it. Like, physically. I can feel us getting closer. I know that doesn't make any sense. You just have to trust me."

John looked at her. Really looked at her. She was tired and edgy at the same time. She had a desperation in her voice and couldn't sit still. The journey was taking its toll. He would need to talk to Ronon about that. And maybe Carson.

But she might actually go crazy sitting around for eight days waiting for a battle with the Wraith. John wondered if another mission might actually be the best thing for her. And it would put some distance between her and Abatello.

John looked at Woolsey, who shrugged his shoulders just the tiniest bit.

John looked at Ronon, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"OK. One more mission. IF…" he raised a finger to point out there are conditions, "if – we do it with a team of six, and we do everything we can to be back from the first visit in forty-eight hours."

The agreement made, the team put together the roster and schedule for the next Herald mission. When the team gathered at the appointed time, it looked different than it had for previous missions. Teyla was with the Athosians. And Abatello was on the mission sheet, but was replaced last minute with Grant.

John came down to the Control Room floor to see the group off. When Jennifer saw Grant join the team, she greeted him warmly, and then walked over to where Lorne, Sheppard and Ronon had gathered.

"Everything OK with 'Tello? He was on the board for this mission, I thought," she asked.

"He's still running defense drills," Lorne said at the same time that John said "He's a little under the weather."

Ronon watched her look from John to Evan and back. Finally John clarified.

"He was up running defense drills all night with the third shift, and now he is feeling under the weather."

"I saw him last night. He didn't look good," Jen responded and headed over to the DHD. As she placed her hand on panel, and a tone filled the room, Ronon used her distraction to lean into Sheppard.

"If you're going to lie to a Doctor about where someone is, don't say they're sick. Now she'll just be looking for him, and it's clearly not what you want."

He read Sheppard's face carefully. It was steady with the skill of a soldier, but the relationship that existed between the two men transcended the mask. Sheppard was worried about something.

"We need to talk when you get back. Just you and me first. Then we can figure out what we need to do."

Ronon nodded and joined the team, placing his hand on the small of Jennifer's back and leading her through the gate.


	20. Chapter 20

Timing could easily be off between worlds based on location of the gate on a planet, proximity to sun stars… lots of factors. But the partial darkness they found when they came through the gate was different. Jennifer could see shadows in the shapes of leaves at her feet. The gate was in a forest. A forest with huge trees. Huge trees that dwarfed the gate, and created a canopy that left the entire forest cloaked in shadow.

Trees surrounded the gate on every side, with almost no clearance. One of them had fallen and was resting precariously on the ring itself. And there was no path. It made sense, she guessed. If you couldn't use the gate, it certainly wouldn't be someplace people spent a lot of time landscaping. But in other worlds, there had been banners, or lookouts, or celebrations. Here there was nothing but underbrush and overgrowth.

Forgotten. This ring had been forgotten.

She ran her fingertips over the metal of the ring, and felt a chill run up her back.

After a brief expedition up a tree nearby at Lorne's direction, Meyers returned to the ground with a jump and a thud.

"Really graceful," Matthews laughed.

"Like to see you do better," he responded. "That way," he pointed. There is a mountain range that extends to the north, and the quickest way out of the forest is there. There is also a structure of some kind. Most likely place to find people."

"Alright," Lorne said. "That way."

It was thirty minutes into the trek when they heard the sound of a woman laughing. And then a man. Ronon moved around behind the sound to flank whoever it was but came back to the group to report that there was no danger.

A couple, small pack on his back and water canteen on her hip walking together without a care in the world.

When she saw the group the woman had a quick intake of breath and then recovered.

"Are you Promise Guardians?" the woman asked with skepticism and wonder in her voice.

"Do you know about the Promise," Jen asked non-committedly.

"Not really," the man answered. "Maybe back in school. Something about a ring and a tribute. The ring is supposed to be here in Ancient Forest, but no one comes here anymore.

"Except you?" Lorne asked.

"Anna said we could. It's her land. We're just hiking for the day. She said it was ok."

"And if I had a question about the promise?" Jennifer wondered aloud.

"Talk to Anna. You'll see her house in the clearing."

The group headed off in the direction given, only to have the woman call back to them.

"You're gonna be nice to her, right?"

"Anna?" Jen confirmed.

"Yeah. She's a little out there – all of the Promise Guardians are, but she's a super nice lady. I went to school with her kids. Most of the Guardians don't really mix so much with the rest of us, but she's always been really cool about it."

"We look forward to meeting her," Jen assured them.

The team walked for another twenty minutes, the forest getting thinner along the way. Eventually the first beams of actual sunlight hit the ground in front of them, and they could see the mountain range come into view.

There was a field, only a few acres of clear land between them and a good sized house. Beyond the house there was at least a mile or two before the base of the mountain range. No people and no other structures in sight. Examining the mountain face with binoculars, Lorne and Ronon saw either a cave or tunnel entrance not far from their location.

"Think they live in the mountain?" Lorne asked.

"Would be odd to have them all live in the mountain and have this one house here," Ronon observed. "Also, those two we passed didn't have the coloring of cave dwellers."

"We never seem to have a shortage of odd," Matthews reminded him.

The group moved first to the house in the distance, deciding to approach with caution and see if they could find anyone to ask some questions of. It was an easy walk. The terrain wasn't that different from the training hills at SGC in the late spring, and the weather was beautiful.

Eventually their approach became obvious to someone at the house, and they came to the post fence that surrounded the immediate vicinity of the structure. She hopped up to the top, sitting on the three foot post casually, dangling their feet.

"Can I help you?" The woman yelled when the group was in shouting range.

His weapon shouldered, Lorne trotted out ahead of the group and introduced himself.

"I'm Major Evan Lorne, Ma'am. We were hoping to find a settlement or town around here, or some elders to speak to?"

"Settlement? Elders?" the woman asked laughing. "No."

She hopped down off the fence post and looked the group up and down.

"Where are you from? Not Talaria, that much I can tell. Janzir? Batonis?"

"No, Ma'am." Evan answered. "We're from the City of the Ancients."

The woman laughed a full throated, hearty laugh.

"Oh," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "Good one. So which one of you is the Herald?"

Jennifer stepped forward, raising one hand half way and then waving.

"I am the Herald of Atlantis."

The woman looked from face to face. She looked at their uniforms.

"You are the Herald?"

Jen nodded with a smile.

"You are the Herald." It was a statement now.

Jennifer nodded again, and the woman promptly collapsed to the ground before anyone could catch her.

"Nicely done there, Doc," Meyers said sarcastically. "You gave her a heart attack."

Jennifer was already on the ground next to the woman, checking her vitals and assessing her condition.

"Sorry, Meyers. No heart attack," Jen quipped back. "Just a run of the mill fainting."

Jen got water from her canteen and dampened a cloth in her bag, patting it gently on the woman's head as her eyes began to flutter open.

"Sorry to have startled you," Jennifer said softly and kindly. "I'm Jennifer. I am the Herald."

The woman moved to rise, and Ronon quickly offered her a hand and helped her steady herself.

"I'm Anna. I am the Keeper of the Gate. This is Herald's Manor. My family has lived here for thousands of years. Please, come inside."

It was just a few moments later that the team found itself seated at a formal looking dining table. Anna brought drinks and tray of food, and then took a seat next to Jennifer.

"Welcome. I should have said that first."

"Thank you," Jennifer said. "It's nice to meet you."

"If I am being honest, Herald," the woman began with some embarrassment, "I didn't ever expect to see you in my lifetime. Or anyone else's," she added.

"Are you here on your own?" Lorne asked, trying to get the lay of the land.

"Oh – at the moment, yes. But my family will return from the city. They had errands to run today."

"The city?"

Jen heard the question in Ronon's voice. There had been no cities of size in Pegasus with the shadow of the Wraith.

"Talaria – that's the closest city. It's right on the other side of the mountain," she explained. "Janzir is far to the northwest, and Batonis to the west. Those are the ones nearby."

Jennifer prompted her to tell the group more of Talis and what it was like. A planet with too many cities to count. A representative government. School systems. Business. Hospitals. Stores. Hotels. It was impossible to imagine here in Pegasus, but then, a lot of things in Pegasus were hard to imagine.

After a while, they heard the hum of machinery of some kind, and the men in the group tensed and came to stand near Jennifer. Ronon peered through the curtains to see two vehicles pull up outside the house.

"Oh, it's alright," Anna said. "That's just the family coming home. It will be my husband, son and daughter. And my nephew, Knox. You'll want to speak to him. He is a Tribute Guardian," she reported with pride.

The family seemed surprised to find anyone inside with Anna when they returned. She excitedly ushered them in and made introductions. After an initial disbelief, the family fell into an easy rhythm asking questions and sharing information. All except Knox.

"You certainly took your sweet time, getting here," Knox pointed out.

"Knox, don't be rude," Anna's daughter warned.

"Oh but stopping by, asking people to build something for you, having them commit hundreds of years and an incredible amount of resources and then disappearing for thousands of years…. That isn't rude at all."

"It was the promise," Anna reminded him, then gave him instructions. "Call the Temple and make arrangements for tomorrow. We'll need them to come down and transport the Herald and her Council. Tonight we'll have a wonderful celebration."

Dinner preparations took over the activity in the house, as everyone took to their job. Ronon watched Jennifer. She seemed instantly at home here. She had volunteered to help make dinner, and even when her initial offer was rebuffed, she persisted. She talked effortlessly with Anna in the kitchen and insisted that Anna call her Jennifer. He hadn't seen her take to someone like that in a long time. Sure, she was kind to all, but close to only a few.

Conversation at dinner painted a picture of a world unlike any they had visited in Pegasus. It was a strong, peaceful world that had never known the horror of culling. Their military as they described it was more of a civil defense force that helped in times of crisis – a groundquake once, and an epic wave that hit the edge of the city years ago.

It was hard for Ronon to acknowledge, but he held the smallest tinge of jealousy for these people. How different life would be in a place untouched by fear and violence.

And how at ease Jennifer was with these recent strangers.

He speculated there were things here that reminded Jen of home.

"Are you all Promise Guardians?" Jennifer asked the family.

The children, in their teens and on the edge of adulthood quickly answered yes. Her husband banged his fist in applause and said yes as well. And Anna nodded happily. Knox made no response. Anna looked at him and gently patted his arm.

"Knox is a Tribute Guardian," Anna explained. "You will meet many of them tomorrow. They guard the Temple, and ensure the Tribute is ready for your return."

"Is there a government official we need to speak to?" Lorne queried.

The demeanor of the room changed. Anna shook her head and explained that long ago the government of Talis abandoned the Promise. They gave up on the idea that the Herald would ever return. They relocated what was just a town then to the other side of the mountain, leaving only the Manor on the ring side. Talis moved on. They took the property the manor and the Ancient Forest sat on and deeded it to Anna's family generations ago to keep peace with those who couldn't let go.

"Did Talis complete the task?"

"We've dedicated out lives to it," Knox answered with anger.

"Of course," Jennifer responded. "I didn't mean to … I chose my words poorly. It's been a long day for us. I look forward to seeing the tribute."

The expression Knox wore didn't change as he spoke. "You have no idea what it took to build, how long and hard people toiled, how many were injured or changed or killed. And you are just going to waltz in and disappear with it? Is that your plan?"

The exchange was the first time Jennifer seemed uneasy to Ronon since she had arrived.

"We will honor those who kept the promise however we can. Our gratitude is beyond measure. We are at a great disadvantage. You know what the tribute is. When we came through the gate we knew nothing about what was on the other side," Jen tried to explain.

Knox calmed and gave them insight into how the next day would look. He told them he and another Tribute Guardian would be back in the morning to transport them to the Tribute Workshop and Temple. The ride, he warned them, was a few hours by truck. They would be taking the tunnel to Talaria and then through to the North edge of the mountain range. With that he stood to take his leave for the night. He kissed his Aunt on the head as he headed for the door.

Lorne grabbed his attention as he left the room. "The way back to the gate is surrounded by think forest and underbrush," Lorne noted. "Will it be hard to get the tribute back down south and through the gate?"

"I am sure the Herald is used to getting whatever she wants however she wants it, but I can tell you one thing for certain: you will not be taking the tribute back through the ring with you, Herald. That you can count on."

And with that he was gone.


	21. Chapter 21

"Status, Colonel," General Atkins barked through the video screen.

Sheppard straightened up some, but never came to attention. "Preparations are underway. All military personnel have drilled their defense locations and responsibilities. Essential civilian personnel have been fitted with additional tracking gear and assigned safe locations. Non-essential personnel have their evacuation plan for the Alpha site which we will execute the day before arrival."

"What good is the Alpha site if we lose Atlantis?"

"Well thank you for that vote of confidence, General," Sheppard said with a slight sneer.

"I'm not here to contribute to what I am told is an already significant ego, Colonel. I'm more interested in the defense plans than the evacuation plans."

John bit his tongue. O'Neill was briefing the President and the IOA. He was unavailable for blocks of time over the next few days, and he left Atkins in charge. No point in arguing too hard. He was sure that O'Neill would be a much more reasonable CO when he returned.

"McKay," Atkins continued. "In your assessment, is there any of the Herald technology that might be able to bolster the defense of the city?"

Rodney looked cautiously at Sheppard, and then at the screen.

"Yes," Rodney answered.

John's shoulders fell a little, and he looked with annoyance at the scientist as he continued to speak.

"It's likely that the NPMs, shields, cloaks, and sensors could be of some assistance, but we haven't even scratched the surface of their coding and what they do. The planet with the Jumpers provided a new type of mini-drone that we believe can be directed from the Chair, but we haven't tested them yet. There are also crates of crystals of various colors and sizes we done have a hypothesis for, and crates of side arms that we can't get to fire."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Atkins yelled. "At the very least I would expect to see the NPM, new shields and mini-drones in use when the Wraith cruisers arrive."

"There were some restrictions placed on our ability to investigate and test the technology," Rodney explained, this time not looking at Sheppard at all.

"And who's decision was that?" Atkins bellowed.

"Well," Rodney stammered, "Dr. Keller was instructed..."

"Seems the CMO is overstepping her bounds more than a little."

John looked at Rodney.

"I'm not gonna let you pin this on the Doc," he said quietly. Then looking back at the screen he prepared to take responsibility for the decision, but was interrupted by Woolsey.

"It was my call in consultation with senior staff and the Herald."

"The Herald?" Atkins laughed. "You can't be serious. She's a medical doctor."

"We still have a lot of questions about how all the technology comes together," Radek offered. "It would be prudent to have all of the Tributes in the lab for analysis before putting them in operations."

"Well perhaps with the Wraith bearing down on the city the most prudent thing would be for the scientists on Atlantis do their jobs," Atkins countered.

"The NPM is very straightforward," Rodney commented. "The shield would offer the greatest improvement of our position."

"Then I suggest you get to testing it," Atkins directed. "And you can start now," he added. "I need to speak to Woolsey and Sheppard."

John was frustrated. At Rodney for manipulating the situation to get what he wanted. At Atkins for throwing around his stars so frivolously. But he held his tongue as McKay and Zelenka exited the room. Woolsey looked to wrap up the conversation once the men were alone.

"You had something else to discuss."

"Yes," Atkins replied. "Dr. Keller."

John's gut tightened at the way he said Jen's name. "What about her?"

"She is being recalled to Earth when she returns from the current leg of the Journey."

"She is the CMO of Atlantis. It is an inopportune time to be low on medical personnel and without the most talented trauma surgeon in two galaxies," Woolsey jumped in. "Also, she is married to Ronan Dex. I believe that General O'Neill has already given certain assurances that they wouldn't be separated."

"My concern isn't a broken heart or hurt feelings. My concern is the defense of Atlantis."

John had heard enough.

"And what do you think we are concerned with? How crappy the pizza is here?"

"She can dial Atlantis with her hands, Colonel. Has it really not occurred to you how dangerous that is?"

"Now wait just…."

"She may be the greatest possible threat to the security of Atlantis. This herald thing is genetic. What if the Wraith feed on her and get the gene? What if she is taken? Once the Journey is done, if we all live that long, it maybe too dangerous for her to stay in Pegasus at all, but it is at least too dangerous for her to be there with Wraith on the way."

John needed O'Neill back pronto. This discussion had taken an ugly turn, and he had been so distracted by the Journey and the Wraith that he hadn't seen it coming. He tried his best to explain to Atkins, but he knew it was falling on deaf ears.

"We don't even know if the gene works that way. The only DHD's she had ever dialed with her hands is the one here, and the ones on the worlds on the journey. They may be the only ones it works on."

"And did you not think to test that?"

"In all our spare time?" John spit out, not really caring about the repercussions of his tone.

"When she returns from this trip, she will gate to Earth until the current crisis is passed. And after the journey, we'll need to think about a more permanent recall."

"Atlantis out," John said and ended the transmission.

There wasn't anything left to say that wouldn't tip his hand. He didn't say he would send her back, and he didn't say he wouldn't. Atkins was the kind of man who would assume that without being told otherwise that his word was law. He clearly didn't know very much about John Sheppard.

John looked at Woolsey, who was rattled by both the confrontation and the implications it presented. He could also tell that this was one of the rare moments when Woolsey was looking for someone to guide him.

"They left yesterday. Their instructions were to cut the first visit to forty-eight hours – find out what the tribute there was and come back. That will have them working with locals today and returning tomorrow. We can hold him off with medicals and debriefs for another day, but if O'Neill isn't back in charge of this in three days we are going to have to make some tough choices."


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N - Sorry for the waterfall of chapters. Home sick from work and super bored. This is keeping me from losing my mind. Hope everyone gets caught up. Let me know what you think when you get a chance. And thanks so much for reading. -Kalli_

* * *

When Lorne brought the team through the gate there was an alarm blaring in the Control Room. John took in the site of the team to make sure everyone was accounted for, attempting to fidget with a control panel while casually asking Lorne how the trip went.

"Everyone back in one piece, Major? Sixty fingers, sixty toes?"

"Yes, sir," Lorne confirmed. "No hostiles, and other than some questionable driving skills, no danger to be had."

"Driving?"

"Yes, sir. We found a planet with a sort of part-jeep, part-pick-up truck thing that we used to get from the Manor to the Temple."

"And to think, I missed out on all that fun for this," Sheppard said with aggravation in his voice. "Chuck, would you please turn that damn warning alarm off. We get it. The shield is down."

"The shield is down?" Lorne asked.

John nodded in annoyance.

"Yes, the shield is down. I wonder how that happened," he said particularly loudly, only to have McKay poke his head out from behind another console.

"It should have worked," Rodney said defensively.

"Well clearly it didn't," John replied gesturing in the air to the sound of the warning alarm. "Chuck!"

John came over to where the returning team had gathered.

"Long story," he explained to Lorne. "McKay and Atkins decided to test the new shield data crystal and it crashed the shield. McKay is like a lunatic. Stay out of his path."

"Don't have to tell me that twice," Lorne responded.

Chuck found the right combination of buttons and the room returned to relative quiet. John looked up exhaling a deep breath as the alarm finally went off. The noise was making him crazy. He finally cleared his head and looked at the returned team.

"Do we know what the tribute is?"

"We absolutely do," Jennifer said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Are you going to tell me?" John asked.

Jennifer gestured to Lorne and gave him the honors.

"Warships," Lorne said, grinning. "Two big, beautiful, powerful, totally bad ass warships."

"Are you kidding me?" John said with surprise. And maybe a little excitement.

"Nope," Lorne assured him.

"So the shields and the cloaks and the radar … they are for.."

"Yep," said Jen. "The ships are skeletons now. The components are among the tributes."

"So the shield crystals weren't for Atlantis at all?"

"There maybe some things in there for Atlantis, too, but it looks like most of the tributes were focused on advancing key systems on the warships - power, sensors, radar, shield, cloak."

"Did you hear that, Rodney?"

"Here what?" he asked without sticking his head out this time.

"The shield was for the new shiny warship tribute. Not for Atlantis."

Rodney emerged, but as his brain processed the information, he made facial expressions and no sound. Then he grabbed his data pad and left.

John shook his head. At least that explained why the shield crystal seemed incompatible with the Atlantis system. And then the irony hit him. They would be so busy fixing the current problem on Atlantis that they couldn't spare Rodney and Zelenka to bring all the components to the warships to have them ready in time to help. They finally had the weapon to defeat the Wraith, and the Wraith were coming, and it wasn't ready.

Then he looked at Jennifer.

"Major, can you please escort the Doc up to the Medbay for her post-mission medical. Ronon will be along in a sec."

Jennifer looked at him suspiciously, but he played off her concern.

"No worries, he'll be along in a minute."

Jen nodded, letting herself be led out of the room with the rest of the team as John pulled Ronon aside. He told him about Atkins, and the concerns about Jennifer and the gene, and the threat to recall her.

"We need to figure out how we want to play it," John told his friend.

"Is this what you wanted to talk to me about before I left?"

"One thing at a time," John replied, shaking his head. "That can wait. This can't."

* * *

Medicals and the debrief were done. Ronon hadn't spoken since he met Jen in the Medbay. They got dinner surrounded by people, his mind spinning. He was putting all of his energy into controlling his anger and trying not to upset her. He was losing the battle.

They walked back through the corridors to their quarters, the door not even finished closing when she started. "So?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and faced her as she continued.

"You have been a ball of tension since you spoke to John. What's wrong?"

He preferred conversations to be direct – it demonstrated his trust in her and his love for her when he didn't try to protect her from the truth.

"SGC wants you back on Earth." He said it plainly – no anger and agitation. He wanted to read her and her thoughts before he interjected his own. Didn't take long, though. Her head was wildly shaking no before he had finished the words.

"No," she said adamantly. "I won't go."

"They made it clear to Sheppard and Woolsey that they want you back tonight. Sheppard bought an extra day."

"First of all, I won't gate back to Earth without you. Too much can happen. I won't get stuck a galaxy away from you." Then she read his face. "There is more."

He nodded. "They think the Herald gene is a security concern. They're talking about recalling you permanently when the journey is over."

"What?" she asked in disbelief, tears already gathering in her eyes. "O'Neill promised," her sentence trailing off.

"O'Neill wasn't there. When he gets back this could all change - Sheppard doesn't know. For now, he is worried about tomorrow."

She shook her head again. "I won't go."

"The journey isn't over. They'll have to send you back to Atlantis if they want the warships. After the Journey there is no guarantee, but right now you have all the leverage to make them send you back."

"They'll turn me into a lab rat. I have a gene that dials gates and makes an enzyme that helps heal me. You think the IOA will ever let me walk around free again until they figure out how to duplicate it?"

"So what do you want to do?" He needed to know her heart.

"Stay with you. What do you want me to do?" She asked.

"I want you to go," he said, "but not there."

"Where?"

"Go back to Talis. Go stay with Anna for a few days. You'll be out of reach. After the Wraith are defeated there will be more time to sort this out."

"But we'd still be separated," she whispered.

His resolve was about to crumble. All he wanted was to keep her close. No one could protect her like her could, could sense her, could calm her. But there was a storm brewing, and removing her from the equation would buy him the time he and John needed.

Ronon reached into a pocket and retrieved a piece of paper – a gate address. "One week from today, come home. If the Wraith were to take the city, we would disable the gate. If you can't dial Atlantis, open the Talis gate and go here. I will be waiting.

"But what if.."

"I will be waiting, little one. Nothing will keep me from you."

She crushed herself to his chest, wrapping her arms around him and holding on for dear life. "Ronon," she said softly. He felt her breathing, uneven with gentle sobs.

"Tell no one. If you go to Talis, just go. Decide and do it – don't second guess yourself. The fewer who know, the fewer who can interfere or be held accountable. No matter what, one week from today we'll be together. If you stay, I'll do anything required to keep you with me."

She nodded her head, understanding the meaning of his words, and held him tight. Her arms wove their way under his shirt, and he felt her hands roam the skin on his back. She traced invisible circles with her nails. When her fingers dipped into the waist of his pants, he couldn't help his reaction. His body responded to her. And it encouraged her to continue. Bringing her hands around to the front she unfastened the pants and pushed them aside as she stroked him, eliciting a moan.

This woman was his whole world. It took every single ounce of control to tell her to go to Talis – to send her away. And even if this worked and SGC didn't come for her now, when the journey was over would they be back in the same place? Was he just delaying the inevitable? Would he be forced to go battle his friends and leave his new home to keep her safe?

Lab rat. That is what she said they would make her. Taking samples and dragging her through gates to see how the gene worked. Even Beckett was having a hard time figuring it out. They were less intelligent and less trustworthy. How would they test how it healed her? Would they hurt her to get the gene to keep producing the enzyme?

His racing mind drew pictures that shattered his sanity. It was only her hands that brought him back from the edge of darkness. He reached down and lifted her, his arms wrapped below her ass lifting her high so that she looked down to kiss him. He offered up his mouth, and with her fingers running through his dreads and up and down his neck, she kissed him.

He carried her like that to the bed, and laying her before him, he divested her of all clothes. He shrugged off the rest of his, and brought his entire body into contact with her skin. She was warm and flush and her hands couldn't get enough of him. She whimpered as she waited, finally giving over to a throaty groan when he buried himself.

It was her desperation that gave it away. He told her to tell no one, but her body hid nothing.

Not from him.

She was leaving for Talis tomorrow, and her body was saying goodbye.


	23. Chapter 23

Ronon kissed Jennifer when he left their quarters in the morning. A long, deep silent kiss. It was a million emotions in one, and Jen stayed in bed for a little while just thinking about it.

McKay had figured out how to reset the shield mechanisms to the previous code, but getting down to the panel required assistance. Sheppard and Ronon and SGA-1 were going to help.

By the time the room was bright with daylight, Jennifer's resolve had kicked in. She climbed out of bed. Recognizing a headache brewing, she wrote it off to stress, or hunger, or dehydration, and set about the task at hand. Alone in her quarters she looked around and started planning her departure. A small bag, just a few essentials, and then a casual stroll to the gate room?

She was meant to save lives, not plot escapes. It wasn't her skill set.

She dropped the ibuprofen she meant to take on the floor, and it bounced under the bed. As she reached to retrieve it, her hand came into contact with something she didn't recognize. Dropping to the floor on her knees she peered under bed and saw the long shoulder strap of a leather bag. It barely looked familiar to her, but then she made the connection. The night she and Ronon returned from the silk dress planet.

She smiled. It was a very good night.

He had quickly relieved her of the dagger and this bag, and had put them on the floor because of more pressing urges. Too bad he was out helping John and Rodney get down to the main shield panel. They were very good memories. She casually flipped the bag open, and looked inside. Elisha had said it was filled with baubles. As Jennifer pulled them out she figured that was a good a word as any to describe the contents.

It was a collection of a dozen flat, metal disks. They had markings around the outside like a clock, but not numbers. Well, could be numbers. They were symbols that Jennifer didn't have any knowledge of. But a small spark that she had seen them somewhere.

She found a field pack and threw a few things inside. She gathered the disks, put them back in the bag and decided to bring them down to the Herald Lab on her way out. Best to keep the Herald stuff together, she figured.

Once in the lab, Jennifer walked around the room looking at the big and small things that they had collected along the way. If the journey was to be believed, everything that was needed to defeat the Wraith was in this room, or in the ships on Talis. Maybe there was more to the journey, but this seemed like the grand finale. Everything they needed to defeat the Wraith, and no time to pull it all together.

Maybe if she had pushed herself harder. Taken fewer days between trips. Been more direct on the worlds of the Journey and made them move faster. Not taken so much time for her own recovery. A few days would have made the difference.

Atlantis could still defeat the Wraith. If the shields came back online. If the mini-drones that seemed more powerful than Zelenka could believe could be made to work. Some good timing. Some lucky shots. You never knew.

But there was so much to lose.

She continued her look around the room. Data Crystals. NPMs. Teardrop shaped blue crystals – a crate of small ones and large ones. Intricately beveled spherical green crystals both the size of softballs and the size of pepples. Side arms that no one could get to work. Mini-drones. Programmable sensors. Pictures of tattoos. Radar panels. Data pads filled with pictures they took along the way.

A multi-dimensional puzzle.

She casually flipped the pictures on the data pad they had taken of the warship. One by one. She didn't even know what she was looking for. Her hands went to the flat discs she had brought down to add to the collection of things they didn't understand. As her hands traced the etching on the discs, she flipped another picture. Then another.

Sometimes she looked at things too closely. Whether she was comfortable with the accolades or not, she was one of the best diagnosticians in the world. To get there she had to teach herself to sometimes blur her eyes to the details: to look for patterns in data rather than the data itself: to pan out from the specifics to see the bigger picture.

So she blurred her focus on one of the pictures.

And suddenly it all came into view.

She grabbed two large field packs. Maybe there was a way.

It took longer than she wanted to get organized, but she got it done. Heading to the gate room, though, a thought stopped her in her tracks. What if her gene wasn't enough? Her mind raced through her options. In the end there was only one.

She reached for the panel on Abatello's door, surprised to find the lock restrictions engaged. She thought he was sick. She didn't imagine he had found himself restricted to quarters. With the Wraith about to be at their doorstep he must have gotten pretty sideways on Sheppard to get himself in that much trouble. She wouldn't be able to guess, though, and in the end she didn't really care.

She rang the chime, but hearing nothing, she used her CMO code to override the lock.

The door opened, and his startled face met her on the other side.

"Major Abatello, I need you to come with me."

He stammered uncharacteristically for a moment, and then backed away from her.

"No."

"No? That doesn't sound like you. Where's your sense of adventure?" she asked conversationally.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Keller. You need to leave."

"Are you feeling ok?"

He raised his hands to block her as he she tried to approach him.

"Dr. Keller, I am not sick. Thank you for your concern. I have been restricted to quarters and I need you to leave."

"Major, we can worry about whatever you did to get in trouble later. I need your help now."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Dr. Keller."

"You haven't even heard the idea yet, Major. Trust me."

"Don't trust myself," he said.

She crossed the room and took hold of his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye.

"You are the only person who can help me, Tello. Please. I need you to help me."

His face told her she had won him over. He wasn't his confident self, but she could figure out what was wrong another time. She grabbed him to hurry him along, and encouraged and dragged him to the gate room.

Outside the entrance, she stopped for just a moment, activating her communicator.

"Ronon?"

"Go ahead," he said.

"I love you."

She heard him exhale on the other end, and closed the connection. That was all she was going to say. He would know.

She walked quickly to the controls and activated the gate, ignoring the questions from Chuck at the panel, or Matthews and Meyers on gate duty. When the gate engaged, she said nothing. She just got behind Abatello and nudged him through.

She didn't look back.

Matthews and Meyers looked at each other. There were three seconds to make a choice, and they made it. Slinging their weapons over their shoulders, they ran through the event horizon as the singularity closed behind them.


	24. Chapter 24

The military channel lit up in everyone's ear as soon as Jennifer dialed the gate. John looked around at the rest of SG-1 to make sure he was hearing the transmission right. It struck him right away that Ronon had no reaction at all. He just kept retrieving the ropes and clamps they had used to secure access to the panel.

"Somehow, you don't seem that surprised, Chewy."

Ronon made no response.

"I don't …" John trailed off as he continued to listen to the discussion on the comm link. "Say again, Chuck."

Ronon and John listened as Chuck repeated his last.

"Dr. Keller and Major Abatello left through the gate. Corporals Meyers and Matthews followed them."

"Also," Chuck added for the military commander, "There is an incoming request from SGC. They would like to see you for a discussion in Mr. Woolsey's conference room."

"Damn it," John yelled to no one in particular. "Lorne, Ronon, you're with me."

When they reached the conference room it was Sam's face on the conference screen looking back at them. If it wasn't Atkins then it wasn't about sending the Doc home. Not wanting to give anything away until he had to, Sheppard focused on the screen and greeted Sam.

"Colonel," Sheppard said with formality. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Sheppard, Woolsey, Ronan, Major." Sam greeted the men. "We had some progress on the Feist investigation. Should we wait for Jennifer?"

The men looked at each other, and it was John who answered.

"Ahhhh, no. Let's just get started."

Feist had been extricated from prison, it appeared, but a man named Baxter. Or as Carter called him, Jarrick #12. Feist had put the word out that she had a way to get to Jennifer and make her pay for killing Jarrick. One of his disciples took her up on it. He helped her escape. At some point she set herself up at an empty mountain cabin a friend put on the market without their knowledge. She apparently was working off a list of personnel who were about to depart the Mountain for Atlantis. She found one and paid them some money to help her out.

"There is an assassin here on Atlantis?" Woolsey asked.

"No," Carter explained. "It's a little more complicated than that. We were able to locate the private laptop with her notes detailing her programming efforts with Dr. Keller and Major Abatello. Jennifer's was very straight forward. When Abatello called her Rabbit she was to follow the next command without hesitation. It was pretty much what Feist said it was."

"And Abatello?" Lorne prodded.

"She programmed him to protect Jennifer, and to give her commands if she was in danger. But she also seemed to be worried about what the unknown gene might be or lead to." Sam took a deep breath. "She created what she called a Kill Switch, so that if Jennifer needed to be removed from the equation, she could activate Abatello to do it."

"Fucking hell," Ronon growled, now pacing behind the others gathered at the table.

"I'm sorry Ronon. I know this is hard to hear." She looked back at the men at the table and continued. "She paid someone to trigger Abatello. Right now we are assuming that once he was sure the message was received he decided to kill her instead of pay her."

"And the message carrier," Lorne asked.

"Private Banks. His financial records show he took what his brother described as hazard pay to help test whether some form of communications had been compromised. He doesn't appear to know Jennifer, anyone associated with Jarrick, or have any idea what the message really meant. He was duped."

John appreciated Carter's assessment, but before she had even finished her sentence, he had already instructed the Marines to take Banks into custody. He would question the Private himself.

"O'Neill is back," she continued. "Atkins is under the impression that Jennifer is gating back tonight. Is she getting ready?"

"Not exactly," John answered vaguely.

"Well it is probably prudent to separate Keller and Abatello until this is sorted out. Maybe this timing of this is for the best."

"Fucking hell!" Ronan yelled again, this time kicking a chair for good measure.

"Dr. Keller reacted poorly to being told that she would have to return to SGC, without her husband. And Atkins warned that after the Journey she might need to be recalled permanently if the gene was determined to be a security risk," Woolsey explained.

"What do you mean, reacted poorly?" Sam asked nervously.

"She took matters into her own hands. She departed the city for the current journey world to avoid being brought back to SGC," Woolsey told her.

"Oh Jennifer," Carter said under her breath. "Well at least she and Abatello are separated. That's something."

Lorne cringed when she said it.

"What's wrong, Major."

"She took Abatello with her, and there is no way to reach them."

"Fucking hell," Carter said under her breath.

It took only a minute to complete the conversation. They closed the connection and Ronon came to stand face to face with John.

"If you all could give Ronon and I the room, please." John asked nicely, but everyone could tell from John's tone and Ronon's expression that it wasn't really a request. As the room emptied around them, the two man stood a foot apart from each other.

"You knew." Ronon growled. An assumption.

John's eyes never left Ronon, but his mind churned on how to answer.

"Look, Ronon, …"

"You knew," Ronon shouted. An accusation. A judgement.

"Yes. I knew. Not all of it, but that there was something going on."

"When?"

"The day after the Jumper planet."

"How do you not tell me? Or Jennifer. She had every right to.."

"We didn't know what was happening. Lorne and I found Abatello locked in the brig. He had locked himself in. He said he heard a voice in his head telling him to kill Jennifer, and it freaked him out. He disarmed and locked himself up in case he couldn't be trusted."

Ronon continued his questioning. Timing, facts, motivation - he poured them on. John put his hands out in surrender, and tried to explain.

"We wanted to get him to Heitmeyer, but she was on leave and wasn't allowed to return until after whatever happens with the Wraith cruisers happens. So we isolated him to wait out her return and figure out what was going on. Jennifer was the one who taught us that once you recognize a trigger in your head it doesn't control you anymore. He identified the trigger. He isn't any danger to her. If he were I would have locked him up."

"You did lock him up," Ronon pointed out.

"I would have locked him up somewhere more secure than his bedroom."

John kicked himself a little. As the CMO, Jennifer had the override code for the locks to the quarters for medical emergencies. He should have used a different means to secure Tello.

John sensed a calming in Ronon. A fraction of a calming. He took it as an opening to turn the conversation.

"So you knew she was leaving?"

Ronon nodded.

"Why Talis?"

"Because it was a safe world. Because the Promise Guardian had taken such a liking to her. Because you couldn't be ordered to follow her. The repercussions wouldn't be yours to take."

Of course. The galaxy spinning around them, Herald Journeys and Wraith and Kill Switches and recall orders and Ronon and Jen were looking out for him. He was humbled. And embarrassed he had kept the information from them to begin with. No one would have understood better than Jennifer what Abatello was dealing with. She had been ordered to kill someone, too.

Ronon might still have killed him though.

But Jennifer had no need for Abatello's protection, and didn't seek it out. They were friendly, got along fine – she harbored no ill will. They shared a common experience, but no one would call them close. Why would she have chosen him to go to Talis with her?

"You were on Talis – did Jennifer have any reason to need protection? Was she uncomfortable at all, nervous?" John wondered.

Ronon explained that it was actually the opposite. It was the most at home he had ever seen her off world. She connected with the Promise Guardians, was treated with great respect by the Tribute Guardians. It was what everyday Earth was like, Jennifer had told him the first night. Not the Earth Ronon always seemed to see, with crisis and tragedy and the threat of the end of the world.

"So why did she take Abatello with her?"

"There is only one thing I can think of," Ronon responded.

The realization hit John a second after Ronon's words, and he shook his head.

"You don't think…?"

Ronon shrugged his shoulders.

"The ATA gene? You think she is going to try to get the warship online?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense."

"I am going to kick your wife's ass when she gets back here," John told him.

"Get in line."


	25. Chapter 25

Jennifer's appearance at Herald Manor so soon after having just departed had Anna nervous immediately. They assured here there was no danger there, but that the time for needing the tribute was upon them. And they were running out of time. She asked Anna to call the Tribute Guardians to come get the team. Jennifer wanted to be on the bridge of the warship in the morning with the smartest Tribute Engineers and Guardians that Talis had to offer. She intended to put the ship in flight.

Which was the first time that she had spoken her plan out loud. Abatello, Meyers and Matthews looked at her with disbelief. Maybe a little awe. Trepidation. And smirk at the possibilities if they could get it working.

Anna excused herself to call the Tribute Guardians.

"You really think we can get it working?"

"And fly it?"

"And crew it?"

"If we can, we can turn the tide," she answered with hope and determination.

Anna returned with an update. "The Tribute Guardians are sending a vehicle right away. They will be here and ready to head north at first light. They are assembling the greatest minds in their fraternity. You will have everything we have to offer at your disposal."

Jennifer smiled.

"Could we trouble you for a place to rest tonight?" Jen asked.

"It's your home, Herald. It is no trouble."

As Jennifer stood to follow Anna, the headache came back. She noticed for a quick second that her hand was trembling. She balled it into a fist and relaxed it a few times to change the muscle tension.

"Are you ok, Ma'am?" Meyers asked nervously.

"Nothing some advil and some sleep won't cure," she told him with a smile.

The Tribute Guardians arrived overnight and by sunrise they were on their way through the tunnel and north to the temple. There was silence on the ride as Jennifer took in the landscapes and tried not to think about the enormity of what she was about to try to do. When they came through the tunnel she could see the sunrise over Talaria. Light bouncing off the reflective surfaces on the skyscrapers. An ocean in the distance. It was enough to calm her mind and help her regroup.

The only way that the idea behind the Journey could work is if all of the pieces were essentially plug and play. The Tribute Guardians had done all the hard work. Now Jennifer just needed to put the final pieces in the right places. At least that is what she hoped.

She could feel the excitement at the Temple when they arrived. The Herald banners were flying and there were more people than she remembered seeing just days ago. The Tribute Commander and Knox stood at attention where the trucks came to a stop, and when Matthews helped Jennifer to the ground, the two men took one knee in front of her.

She had seen it so many times on the Journey – this act of respect. She met it with an air of formality that it seemed to required, but here it felt different. These people were different. As the rest of their world moved on and abandoned the promise, they refused. They dedicated their lives to it. Maybe it was only hitting her for the first time. Jennifer had given the Promise months. They had given it millennia.

Maybe the reason she was so uncomfortable with the kneeling was that really believed it was her who should be bowing to them. Dedication. Service. Loyalty. Determination. And maybe even success.

Jennifer went down to both knees before them, to the audible gasp of the gathered crowd. The looked at her, stunned. Tears formed in the Commander's eyes. She placed a hand on each of the men before her.

"We are honored by your commitment and sacrifice."

They stood and helped her to her feet. When she reached back for her bags she found them safely in the hands of her team.

"Let's get to work."

The commander brought the most knowledgeable engineer on each system in the ship on board. Jen took a detailed tour of each area, and set to work. She pointed at pictures from the data pad that the team had taken on the first visit and asked what and where things were. About an hour into the process she had her bearings.

Or maybe that is just how long it took to get up the nerve to plug the first thing in.

The set down a tarp on the floor on the bridge and they helped Jennifer lay out all of the things she had brought with her. Some she had answers for. Some she had ideas about. Some she had no clue. Only way to know was to get started.

The engineers that had been caring for the ship knew every inch of it. When Jennifer held up the larger, green crystals someone immediately had an answer.

"There are compartments in the weapons firing mechanism that are exactly that size and shape."

And then they would discuss the item. There were four compartments, one for each weapon bank. Jennifer had only packed two of those crystals. How were they arranged on the ship? Should they try them in the two fore arsenals? The two stern? The two starboard? Port? When the group would come to a decision, the engineers would put the piece in its compartment, and they would go to the next item Jennifer brought.

The small blue crystals were inserted into cut outs in the frame of the ship. They almost looked decorative, but Jen was sure they had a purpose, even if she wasn't sure what. The small green crystals no one could identify, so they moved on. The shield and cloak data crystals were inserted into the crystal integrator. The NPMs were inserted into the Power Supply pedestal. The process took hours, but they were meticulous, and Jennifer was certain the engineers were on board before any component was attached.

They were down to the Power Control Panel with its strange display: an etching in polished metal with six circles cut out of the design. Jennifer reached into a small leather bag and pulled out the twelve disks Elisha gave her, and sorted them. There were six with a metal that matched the panel, and six that had a slightly bronzer color to it. She took the six that matched and laid them out on the panel for everyone to look at.

Each disk had twelve characters on them.

"So the right disk in the right spot, with the right character oriented the right way," an engineer observed.

Heads nodded all around the group.

"That's millions of permutations," Knox said. "Even with the etchings making a design, it is so complex that not knowing what the design looks like, we could be working just this panel for a very long time."

"What if we did know what the design looked like?" Jennifer asked.

"Then we'd have a fighting chance," Knox answered hopefully.

Jennifer looked at the data pad. The battery had died on it not long ago, and they had no easy way to recharge it here with no power active on the ship. With no other options, Jennifer took off her shirt. The surprise on the face of the men in the room was priceless. Meyers and Matthews got immediately protective, and the Guardians got uncomfortable.

Wearing a tank top with thin straps, Jennifer pulled her hair into a ponytail and moved her strap off her shoulder. She turned her back to the men in the room. The answer was on her body.

Most of the designs drawn on her by Elisha and the others had started to faded away, but on each shoulder there was a pattern that had stayed longer than the rest. The fluid, complicated styling on her shoulders matched the style and size of the design on the panel. The orientation for the characters could be seen as well. She stood with her back to the panel.

"So who likes puzzles?" She asked.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N - thanks for all the well wishes. feeling much better. Hitting the home stretch. Review and let me know what you think. -Kalli_

* * *

"Just try and let go," Jen encouraged him.

"This is nothing like a Jumper. It's a lot harder to do," Abatello explained.

"I don't think that it's easy, but they say that people who can 'let go' in the interface are more successful."

"Let go. What does that even mean?" he asked, frustrated.

"Release your inhibitions? Clear your thoughts of anything but the ship? I don't know; it isn't my alien gene. I have one of my own to worry about."

"Very helpful," he said sarcastically.

They tried clearing the room. They tried talking him through it. They tried not talking at all. It wasn't working. Nothing was working.

"Maybe it just isn't an ATA thing," Abatello suggested.

"With a ship this large it might not make sense to need the ATA gene. Or maybe we missed something," Matthews offered.

"Colonel Sheppard is gonna be so pissed at me if I kidnapped you for this secret mission and you didn't even need to be here," Jen laughed.

"Well we left willingly, Ma'am," Meyers offered, gesturing at Matthews. "If we don't find a way to save the day, we'll be in the brig or back at SGC so fast it'll make our heads spin."

Jennifer laughed with the group – humor in the face of stress and danger was a time honored tradition on Atlantis. So many dangers just through a gate. But her laughter didn't meet her eyes. She had put all of these men at risk in their careers, and taken them out of the fight against the Wraith. And she was nowhere. She got lost in that thought for a moment when she felt Meyers run his hand up and down her arms like he was warming her up.

"Stay with us, Doc. Just need to figure it out," he said.

"So what are we missing?" she asked everyone in the room. She drew in Temple Guardians, engineers, and the Atlantis team.

"Well there is nothing to indicate that the power is getting from power supply to power control. All of the stations here still seem dead," one of the young engineers stated as a place to start the discussion.

"Yeah," Abatello agreed. "When I try to connect with the controls there is nothing there."

"The Power Conduit panel," Knox answered confidently and then backtracked. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Tell us about it," Jen encouraged.

"There is another panel on the power network. We call it the Power Conduit Panel, but it isn't like any of the other panels on the ship. It was one of the four parts the ancients supplied for the construction. They didn't give us the design; they gave us the panel itself, like the pedestal for the power crystals, the power control panel, and the data crystal integrator," he explained.

"If power isn't getting from Supply to Control, that may be why," the young engineer concurred.

"And the Power Conduit controls that?" Meyers asked.

The engineer nodded.

"Then let's go take a look," Jen directed.

When they stood in front of the panel, it was obvious how different it was from the rest of the ship. The material had a texture the rest of the metals in the ship did not. A slightly different color, too. Jen looked it over, and then touched it, moving her hand over it slowly. She felt something.

A vibration.

She watched others touch the edges, look at the connectors, handle the panels, but there was no indication that they felt it.

She was the final piece of the puzzle. The panel was made of naquadah, and she had to activate it like the gates on the journey. What did Mallan call it back on Keltiga? _Making a more direct connection_.

Jennifer asked everyone to give her some space, and asked Abatello come stand behind her. He pointed at Meyers and told him to do it.

She wondered to herself if initializing a warship would be harder or easier than dialing a gate, then decided there was no point in speculating. She reached into the back of her tank top, and came out with a small blade.

"Do you always have weapons stashed on your body in case you need them?" Meyers asked.

"I'm married to Ronon. Of course I always have weapons stashed on my body in case I need them. He's a good teacher."

No point explaining it to the crowd. They would figure it out. And she was going to feel pretty silly if this wasn't a part of bringing the ship online.

She sliced her hand with skill and speed, spread the blood, and placed both hands on the panel. The sounds of disbelief from the Guardians and engineers were quickly eclipsed by a now familiar roar in her head. She could feel the ship coming to life. It was like she was pulling the energy from the NPMs herself, and conducting it throughout the ship.

It was more energy than she had ever felt before. The pain came quicker, and harder. She faintly recognized ambient light appearing in the hallway when she couldn't hold back - she yelled from the pain. The attention of everyone moved back and forth between the ship coming to life around them, and Jennifer suffering right in front of them.

She had no way to know when it had been enough. With the gate, when everyone is through, it's done. But here, there was no telling. Her muscles locked and her arms trembled, and Matthews came to assist in holding her arms in position. They were careful not to touch her hands if they could avoid it. Sheppard must have told them what that was like.

And then, just without warning, the connection released her. The tension disappeared, and the sound in her head was slowly replaced by the cheers of the group and the mechanical hum of a warship. Meyers helped her regain her stance, but only for a second before she leaned against him and quietly lost consciousness.

She had no idea how long she had been out, but she was acutely aware of a pain in her head as thought someone was hitting it with a hammer. She scrunched her eyes closed tight against the pain, and tried to sit up from her horizontal position. It was Matthews' voice that stopped her.

"Whoa there, Dr. Keller."

His arms gently guided her back to the surface she was laying on.

"Nice and easy," he said.

"That's my line," she responded, rubbing her face. "How long was I out? Are we heading back to Atlantis?"

"You've been out for four hours. And no, ma'am, we are not underway."

Jennifer pushed through his objections and sat up, regretting it immediately.

"We need to go."

"Doc, there are a lot of steps between here and there. The Major is preparing for departure."

"We have to go now," she demanded.

He kept his voice even as he explained their situation.

"We are learning how to control the ship. Don't know how to navigate yet. Don't know how to fire the arsenals. There is no food on the ship. There are no supplies on the ship. And you haven't been cleared to leave."

"Me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What does that even mean?"

"Can you travel? Do you have any idea what Ronon and the Colonel would do to us if we were cavalier with your health or safety?"

Jennifer calmed. Of course he was right. And not just about Ronon and John killing him. She had never been rendered unconscious using the gene before. That was new. And the headaches. And the trembling she was feeling more and more. Something was wrong. She thought she was hiding it better, but she was getting worse, and the Power Conduit Panel didn't help.

She just nodded slowly at him. Then she thought about his comment. _Cavalier with your health or safety._ It didn't sound like Matthews. It sounded like Abatello. She knew they all shared the sentiment, but the phrasing was 'Tello's.

"Where is the Major?" Jen asked.

"In the hall," he answered.

"Tello!" she barked loud enough to get his attention, and was rewarded to see him poke his head inside the door frame.

"Would you come in here?" she beckoned.

He shook his head slowly, and his face was as serious as she had ever seen it. Matthews looked uneasy as well.

"Corporal, can you please step outside? I need to speak to the Major."

Matthew's expression was guarded, and full of concern. He looked to the Major, who appeared to finally relent and gestured with his head for Matthews to hit the road. Jen wanted to know what was going on, but Abatello short circuited her curiosity with a question of his own. Standing on the other side of the room, his voice heavy with the gravity of what they were attempting, he asked his question.

"What do we need to do for you?"

Jennifer wondered the same thing. The best person to figure it out, though, would be Carson. It was just fortuitous that the best course of action for both her, and Atlantis, was to get home as soon as possible.

"I think the gene is getting unstable, somehow. I don't understand it or know what is causing it. All of the information and research we have on the gene is with Dr. Beckett. The sooner we get back to Atlantis, the better."

Abatello looked at her suspiciously, but said nothing. He nodded and stepped into the hallway to confer with the rest of the team.

Jennifer looked around the room for the first time. The Herald Quarters. She guessed it made sense that each ship would have one. It was a beautiful use of space. Ornate patters of the same style as the tattoos on Jen's back decorated the walls. It had all the essentials with a bed, small couch, desk and bathroom. Compared to crew berths on the Daedalus, it was a palace. On the desk in the corner there was a display case. Jennifer stood up slowly to take a closer look. Under a glass cover, there was a silver dagger. She smiled. It was as beautiful as the others. She didn't want to disturb it.

The men knocked, and entered when acknowledged. None of them looked very happy. The stress of what they were trying to do was catching up on them.

"If we leave and go to hyperspace and you have a medical emergency there is nothing we can do for you," Abatello said plainly.

She nodded her understanding.

"You can be on the bridge for a two on-two off rotation for sixteen hours, and then you have to break eight for rack time."

She nodded again.

"And no heralding anything else until we get home. No slicing your hand, no touching naquadah, no using the gene until we get you to Dr. Beckett."

She nodded one last time. He looked at her like he was trying to decide if she would follow his instructions. Finally he gave in.

"OK. We don't like it, but we have the designs and schematics and have gotten tutorials on every subsystem from the engineer who maintains it. Hyperspace is the easy part. The Ancients apparently preplanned the trip home, so everything we need is in the computer. We only have a rough estimate on the Wraith, so can't say if we will arrive before or during, but if we max out the power we should still get there in time to fight."

"We only have the front arsenals, and they have a recharge time. We're only going to get one good shot out of each set of guns before we open ourselves up. We have shields, but no idea how they'll perform," Matthews added.

"The Major will handle navigation and hyperspace, Matthews and I will each take an arsenal for trajectory and fire control," Meyers explained.

Jennifer was impressed. They had a very detailed plan in a very short amount of time.

"What do I do? There has to be something I can do to help." she said.

"Look heraldly. You got us here. You need to let us bring you across the finish line," Abatello answered her.

Jen didn't like it, but the shared expression across the faces of the men made it clear it was not open for negotiation. It had become a military operation, and they were taking over. Abatello sent the Corporals to the bridge, and had one last thing for Jennifer.

His expression was ominous, and he pulled a chair over to be face to face with her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We have one more thing to talk about before we go. I have already talked to Meyers and Matthews. I am going to tell you why I was confined to my quarters when you came to get me, and then you are going to decide if you still want go."


	27. Chapter 27

Not everything was going according to plan. Okay. Nothing was going according to plan, but then, nothing ever does.

No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.

There was something about the new mini-drones that wasn't interfacing with the chair. Shield frequency disruption, Rodney hypothesized, but the drones weren't responding. John was more gifted in the interface than probably any man alive, and there was no connection. Of course by the time they figured that out the shields were up, the Wraith cruisers were in orbit above Atlantis, and the fight was upon them.

John came up to the control room. He knew people were looking to him set the tone, so despite the fact that no drones would make this a long hard slog of a fight, he maintained an even temper. Working with Lorne, they determined next steps. The shield would eventually deplete under constant assault, and then maybe the drones would be usable to do some damage. Otherwise it was going to be a long bombardment followed by a prolonged ground assault with Atlantis outnumbered and out gunned.

There was an eerie silence as they tracked the cruisers on the display.

"Any chance they are just stopping by for directions?" John said.

And as if on cue, the first blast of weapons fire hit the city's shield.

"Nope," Lorne replied. "Don't think so."

"I need regular reports on shield status, Rodney," John barked.

"Got it," the scientist replied from where he was engrossed in his data display.

John asked for a city wide comm channel.

"Alright people, the Wraith cruisers are here. Stay at your appointed locations, don't take any unnecessary risks, and keep the military channels open."

The boom and crackle of weapons fire and shield dispersion were constant. John looked over to see Ronon in the most open space in the room handling his sword. He was preparing for hand to hand combat. Ronon always had a certain look in his eye when he was preparing to kill Wraith.

The display showed the larger cruisers in red, and then small dots as dart swarms made low passes at the city waiting for their opportunity. They were certainly eager.

The bombardment continued, explosion after explosion, and then suddenly there was a thundering crash that could be felt in the room grabbed everyone's attention.

"Whoa. What was that?" Rodney said, apparently to himself.

"That's your job, McKay. What was that?" John asked.

"That was … not a weapon we've seen. It took a bite out of the shield reserve all at once. An energy or pulse weapon of some kind."

"That's what we needed. The Wraith playing with new tech. Great," Lorne said.

"The shield is going down faster than we anticipated," Zelenka reported.

"And when that happens this place is going to be crawling with Wraith," John pointed out. "OK. I am going to the chair. Hopefully we can…."

"Shhh," Rodney said putting his finger in the air to get people to be quiet.

"What?" John asked impatiently.

"Listen," he instructed.

And they all listened to a sudden silence.

"It stopped," he pointed out.

They exchanged glances, everyone too tense to speak.

"Why would it just stop?" Woolsey asked.

"I don't know," Rodney responded.

"Do we think it is a good thing of a bad thing?" Lorne asked, but no one answered him.

Everyone in the Control Room looked around. They glanced at the ceiling, as if they could see the cruisers for answers. They unconsciously braced themselves for whatever followed the silence. But then they looked at the digital display, and saw a large, unidentified vessel had appeared on the board.

"Or anyone know what that is?" Lorne asked.

"No…," Zelenka said as he looked at the readings. "I really don't."

John looked at Ronon, who was now paying focused attention to the display. The men made eye contact, both wondering if Jennifer had done the impossible.

"It isn't Wraith construction, or at least no class of Wraith vessel we've ever seen."

There was static over the comm, with a choppy and broken rhythm. And then a voice cut through the static.

"This is the Atlantis Warship Herald, reporting on station. Do you read?"

The voice stopped all movement. The momentary disbelief caused silence, which prompted the voice to continue.

"Repeat. This is the Atlantis Warship Herald reporting on station. Do you read?"

John made it over to the Control Communication panel and grabbed the communicator.

"Major?" he asked, believing he had made out Abatello's voice. There was still something from the last Wraith pulse that was causing static distortion in the electrical systems.

"Yes, sir," Abatello answered, relief in his voice. "Team Herald, reporting for duty."

"How…" John asked the question everyone wanted answers to, but either Abatello didn't hear him over the distortion, or he was just that eager to shoot at the Wraith.

"Request permission to engage."

"Are you fully operational, Major?" John needed more information before he'd commit the resource to battle. Or the crew, if you could call it that. Or Jennifer.

"Negative, Colonel. We are running without cloaking capabilities and only our two front arsenals are functioning at the moment."

"Shields?"

"Untested, sir, but all reading are good."

"Crew?"

"Present and accounted for."

"Sounds like this is going to be a hell of a debrief, Major."

"Sir, we have a firing solution on the Wraith cruisers. Request permission to fire."

"Herald, you are cleared to engage. Fire at will."

The Control Room focused on the digital display in anticipation. Abatello had left the comm channel open, even with its static, so that they could hear the ships preparations.

"Arsenal One, fire at will."

There was an electronic shriek across the airwaves and across the Control Room. One of the technicians pulled her communicator out of her ear from the feedback. Static across the line made it impossible to hear, but the display showed a signature for one of the cruisers grow larger, and then disappear altogether.

John looked to Rodney to confirm what it looked like they just saw. Rodney nodded back.

The display board altered immediately to chaos. Many of the darts retreated for deep space immediately. The second cruiser abruptly changed direction, breaking orbit and heading into the atmosphere towards Atlantis. As the static cleared they heard Abatello giving more orders.

"Recalculate the firing solution on track two, and do it fast, Matthews," he ordered.

The cruiser was getting closer and closer. John had already evacuated everyone he could, and the people who remained weren't in high areas, except the control tower. If the cruiser rammed the shields, John didn't know what would happen.

"Track acquired, target fixed, firing solution ready, Major," Matthews reported.

"Arsenal Three, fire."

It was only through a career of combat that John kept his breathing steady. The cruiser was coming at the city at alarming speed. And then the same electronic shriek came across the comm lines. This time Chuck's communicator began to smoke when he yanked it out and dropped it on his panel. The cruiser was nearing the shield barrier when it grew slightly on the display, and then exploded. The proximity of the explosion and its resulting concussion depleted what was left of the shields. As the final shockwaves shook walls and floors in the city, the second cruiser was destroyed. Most of the darts immediately pulled up and headed out to space in retreat, but not all.

John didn't like the look of the warship's trajectory.

"Pull up, Major!"

"Trying, Sir," Abatello answered through a strained growl.

The room shook one more time as the tower was buzzed by the maneuvering ship.

"Well that was close, 'Tello," Lorne pointed out.

"There wasn't a lot of time for lessons on this thing before we took it out for a spin," Abatello joked through the tension.

"Most of the darts appear to be retreating. Once the arsenals recharge we can pick some of them off, but right now we are only set up for big gun exchanges."

"Understood," the Colonel acknowledged.

John counted little red dots on the screen. Eleven.

"Eleven – am I reading that right?"

"Confirmed," Lorne answered. "Eleven."

"Those are odds I can live with," he said to Ronon. "That wife of yours just saved a lot of lives."

John grabbed the comm and spoke to the city.

"All civilian personnel, lockdown. I repeat. Lockdown. We have eleven wraith darts making runs for the city. Stay under cover, and keep all communicator and life sign sensors active. All military personnel, engage advanced sensors. Stay in teams, no lone rangers. Good hunting."


	28. Chapter 28

Jennifer's adrenaline was finally subsiding. The excitement of the battle and the anxiety of the close call with the Atlantis tower had been enough to jump her heart rate. Abatello was pulling the ship to an atmospheric position, high enough to clear any interference and low enough to still provide support. It was also close enough to use beaming technology.

As soon as she gave herself a moment to steady, she felt the now familiar pounding in her head return. Though it was disorienting, the strength of it, she tried not to show it. The protectiveness of these three men had kicked in days ago, and was showing no sign of letting up.

During the hyperspace travel Jennifer and the team had time to talk about what they learned in initializing the ship. Now with power on the ship they had figured out how to power the data pads and were looking at other tributes gathered along the way. It gave Jennifer a theory.

If the big, round, green crystals were made to somehow modify the weapons on the ship, than the small, round, green crystals might have a similar purpose on a different scale. In the cargo area of one of the new jumpers there had been sidearms. The team hadn't been able to get them to fire in tests, but maybe this was the answer.

If the warship guns could destroy a Wraith cruiser in one barrage, maybe the sidearms could do the same to a Wraith.

"I want to beam down to the city," she said with as much confidence and authority as she could muster.

"Don't think that is a good idea right now, Doc," Abatello replied. "They're tracking Wraith in the city. Better to let them finish clean up before we add something else to the equation."

"What if we could change the equation in our favor?" she asked.

"The crystals?" Meyers wondered.

"Yeah, the crystals. If we could get to the Herald Lab and put the crystals in the weapons, it might help defend the city. It might turn the fight. It might save lives."

"But we don't know for sure it will work. Beaming you into a warzone alone for an untested idea has some sketchy logic, and might actually shorten my life expectancy when the Colonel and Ronon find out," Abatello explained with Meyers and Matthews nodding their heads in agreement.

There had to be a way to change their mind.

"Then send someone with me. And beam me right to the lab. If it works we can contact Colonel Sheppard and have him send teams down to pick them up and distribute them." Abatello wasn't convinced, but Matthews seemed to be softening. "You got us here with basically a three man crew," she reminded them. You can hang out in orbit for a little while with two people."

"I'll go," Matthews spoke up.

"I still don't like it," Abatello said as a final attempt to dissuade her, but she knew she had him.

She felt her hand begin to tremble and quickly folded her arms in front of her body, hoping the men hadn't seen it. She was also having trouble with her vision, and swayed slightly as she focused desperately on a spot just next to Abatello so that she didn't blow her chance.

Then she gave him her most bright eyed and pleading look and waited.

* * *

A calm voice from the Control Room was efficiently updating the military channel on the movement of the wraith.

" _Eleven Wraith, solos, on the ground_."

" _Eleven_ _Wraith, 1 pair, 9 solos on the ground."_

"Trying to improve their odds," John noted. "They're pairing up."

"Will just make them easier to find," Ronon answered and SG-1 headed for a Wraith on their handheld display.

 _"Ten Wraith, two pairs, six solos on the ground."_

"One down," John said to no one in particular.

They came up the stairs to catwalk where they confronted a lone Wraith. Ronon charged it in hand to hand combat while John raised his firearm looking for a clear shot. The Wraith was skilled and relentless. Ronon was full of fury. Fury won out. Except for one blow from the Wraith that had dislodged Ronon's gun from its place and sent it over the railing and off the catwalk to the ground two floors below, the battle wasn't in doubt.

"Whole team, Ronon. You don't have to kill them all yourself."

"Jealous?"

John just smiled and reported the kill to Control.

"Wraith down."

 _"Roger that, Colonel. Wraith down."_

And then on the military channel it went out.

" _Nine Wraith, three pairs, three solos on the ground_."

But then John and Ronon had another message in their ear.

"Colonel, this is control. The Herald has requested a secure channel with you."

"Go ahead, Control."

"Colonel, it's Abatello. The Herald is in Atlantis.'

"Where did you park that thing, Major?"

"No, sir. Herald Actual," he said. John could almost hear the cringe in his voice when Abatello answered him. "She just beamed down with Matthews to the Herald Lab. Requesting additional protection."

"We're a little busy down here, Major. Not a great time to start beaming people around," John said in frustration. "Wait – the warship has beaming technology?"

"Sir, it couldn't wait. She needs to get to Dr. Beckett ASAP. I agreed to let her go to the lab, but then Matthews is taking her straight to the medlab."

"What's wrong?" Ronon demanded.

"Is she injured?" John asked.

"Not injured, sir. But something is definitely wrong. She's trying to hide it, but her hands are shaking, she's unsteady and she's in pain – its been bad, but ever since she initialized the ship she's been getting a little worse."

"Seven _Wraith, two pair and three solo on the ground. Two personnel in need of medical assistance_ ," Control reported in the background.

"Alright, Major. We've got this. SGA-1, form up on the Herald Lab. Be aware: Dr. Keller is there and in need of an escort to the medbay."

Ronon looked over a young lieutenant's shoulder at his handheld display, and took off running for the Herald Lab, not even stopping to retrieve his gun.

* * *

The shaking in her hands was making it impossible to get the little green crystal in the compartment in the gun. She had dropped the crystal on the desk twice, and was having to squint a little to see how the grooves in the bevels lines up with the socket. Matthews finally reached over and placed his hands on hers, steadying her and taking the objects from her hands.

She had so much energy, but no focus. She didn't even protest.

"Let's get you to Dr. Beckett," Matthews said as conversationally as he could.

"A few more she said," pointing at the guns.

"Two is plenty for the test. We don't even know if this will work. I will get you to the infirmary and then get these to whoever Colonel Sheppard thinks can use them the most."

She wanted to argue, but she couldn't. He was right.

She gave a nod. She grabbed one of the guns, Matthews grabbed the other, and they stepped out into the hallway. If Matthews was nervous about the Wraith he didn't show it. A long hallway to their left, and a short few steps to a corner on his right, he turned to the left for the fastest route to the medbay.

When Jennifer's step faltered the slightest bit, Matthews put his arm around her waist to steady her. They kept walking until Jennifer was suddenly thrown off balance and Matthews was pulled away from her and thrown against a wall by one of a pair of Wraith, his new gun skidding down the hallway.

Jennifer stood as the second Wraith charged her. Matthews stood from where he was thrown to fight.

She couldn't come this far to lose here, in her city, so close to Ronon. She couldn't let the Wraith take one more thing away from him. Not today. She had no idea what would happen when she pulled the trigger, but there was only one way to find out.

She raised the gun. It was lighter than a 9mm, but a little bulkier. It wasn't a great fit for her hand, either, so she gripped it with both and fired.

The Wraith was only feet from her when the blast hit him, and while she had limited knowledge of Wraith physiology, by her estimation he was dead instantly. His momentum carried him into her, knocking the gun out of her hands and knocking her to the ground, leaving her kicking and struggling to get out from under its body.

The remaining Wraith picked up the gun she had just dropped and aimed at her as she struggled to her feet. Then without taking his eyes off of her, he suddenly stretched his hand in the direction of Matthews and fired. Matthews went down hard, and Jennifer heard herself scream "NO!" in an echo in her head.

With two hands the Wraith grabbed her and threw her up against the wall. She kicked and twisted, blocked one of his blows - defended as best she could, but she was no match. He grabbed her shirt and ripped open the front, exposing the skin above her heart. Grabbing her hair and using it to hold her head in place against the wall, he brought his hand slowly towards her chest.

Jennifer's panic was clouding her vision. She had both hands grabbing the Wraith's wrist, trying to slow his arm. In the end, his size and strength won out, and no amount of resistance stopped the inevitable.

She screamed in terror when his feeding hand came flat against her chest.


	29. Chapter 29

Ronon heard Jennifer scream around a corner and down a long hallway. It would have stopped another in their track – there were members of SGA-1 heading there with him who did pause for a second to get their bearing on the sound. But not Ronon. It pulled him to her with a desperation that was unlike anything he had ever known.

He had run from Wraith for years. And then he banded with these people from Earth to fight them, hunt them. Now the Wraith were there – in the home he had made with Jennifer, and it was like lava inside of him set to erupt.

He had sent her to safety.

She returned to save their home.

And that sound could only mean that the Wraith had found her.

He slid around the corner with grace and agility, picking up even more speed at the sight in front of him.

A Wraith. In feeding stance. With his hand on Jennifer. And then it lifted its hand. It brought the hand holding her hair down and put it around her throat while she fought him, and began feeding again.

Ronon instinctively reached for his gun only to find it gone.

He roared a yell of power and possession and fury as he reached the Wraith, drawing the long knife that Jen called his sword and driving it into the Wraith's side. He twisted it, angled it differently, and pulled it out, doing as much damage as he could in both directions. The Wraith stumbled backwards as Jennifer collapsed down the wall to the floor, and Ronon thrust again, this time catching the Wraith right through the heart. He twisted it, and pushed it to the hilt before jerking it out and discarding it.

He went immediately to his knees in front of Jennifer, terrified.

That he had been too late.

That she was forever changed.

That he had failed her.

But when he lifted her chin to see her face she was unchanged. Undamaged. Unaged.

He lifted her to him and turned her so his back was against the wall. The hunt was too present in his tension to turn his back to the hallway. Always vigilant.

She sobbed and crushed herself to his chest, her breathing erratic and her grip weak.

Then he looked up and saw the rest of SGA-1 there, arriving only seconds behind him. And from the look on their faces, they had seen what he had seen. The Wraith had attempted to feed on Jennifer twice, and could not. There was confusion and concern in their eyes.

John looked around the immediate area and took stock. He picked up one of the scattered new guns, and looked at it. He called in the kills to control, and then went to Matthews, who was starting to regain consciousness.

"Two Wraith down."

 _"Roger that, Colonel. Two Wraith down."_

And then on the military channel it went out.

 _"Seven Wraith, two pair, three solos on the ground."_

Jennifer pushed herself away from Ronon slowly and moved to lean on the wall. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees, finally catching her breath. He didn't rush her, or push her. He lightly ran his hand across the small of her back while she got her bearings. Then she lifted one hand and started to lightly press against the base of her neck, as if she was examining herself.

"Are you ok?" he asked cautiously.

She nodded her head quickly but didn't speak. And she didn't look at him.

"Jen," he said, getting her full attention. When she looked up at him, he didn't need to ask again. She was nowhere close to ok.

"We need to get her to Beckett," Ronon said as John looked on with concern.

 _"Six Wraith, two pair, two solos on the ground. Medical team needed in section 22 level 7."_

Ronon put his arm around her waist and began leading her towards the medbay. SGA-1 fell in around them, offering additional support. Matthews was on his feet and moving with the group. John picked one marine to accompany him back to Control.

"I'll meet you guys there."

Ronon nodded but didn't stop.

He wanted to scoop her up and carry her. Faster. Safer. But she wanted to stand on her own, so he slowed the pace. One of the marines had a newly configured sensor to detect the Wraith, and the six that were still in the city were nowhere near their path, so he didn't rush her.

If it had been one sector more, she wouldn't have made it.

Ronon called to Beckett immediately as they arrived, and finally did lift her to get her up on the examination table. He supported her back as she sat and Beckett's examination began.

"If you like it in here so much you can quit all this heralding and come back to work, lass. No need for all the theatrics," Beckett joked with her. The corners of her mouth registered the start of a smile. Short lived, though, as he placed a hand on either side of her neck and began assessing the damage. Jennifer's neck was already turning purple with bruising from strangulation pressure, and the contact made her wince.

"Fractured larynx?" he queried.

She nodded.

"I thought you were being too quiet. What level? Two?"

She held up one finger.

"Of course you would say level one. You just want to get out of here quicker. I'll probably still put you under the scanner just to test that keen diagnostic sense of yours."

The ease of Beckett's banter started to calm Ronon. Although she still hadn't spoken, she was already seeming more herself.

"Now, this" Beckett said with purpose as he gestured to her neck "explains what you've been up to since you got back. I hear you weren't doing so well while you were away."

Ronon knew that look. Maybe all good doctor's had it. It was the one that told a patient that they could see right through any attempt to be brave, or stoic, or misleading.

Jennifer looked annoyed that someone had already told Carson something was wrong, but instead of arguing with him, she just presented her hands. There was a small bandage on one, but that isn't what got Ronon's attention. It was the way that they trembled.

She was shaking.

Becket took off her boots and socks, and the same was true of her feet.

"Is it adrenaline? Are you still coming down from your run in with the Wraith?"

She shook her head no.

" _Five_ _Wraith, two pair, one solo on the ground_ ," Ronan heard in his ear.

And then the shaking got stronger. It moved up her arms and legs until it encompassed her whole body. She fell backwards to an inclined position as her muscles tightened outside her control. Her eyes rolled back as she lost consciousness, but the convulsions only got worse.

"Seizure!" Beckett yelled as additional staff came running to hold her down.


	30. Chapter 30

It had been two absolutely exhausting days. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. Days that came and went with more questions than answers. And for a man of science, it was making Carson crazy. Jennifer's condition hadn't changed since her seizure two days ago. She hadn't regained consciousness. She was having more seizures every five or six hours, and although there was nothing specific that would indicate she was getting worse, he knew the seizures weren't a sign she was getting better.

Carson had taken over the medical team conference room as his command center, with reports and data and half eaten trays of food spread across the room. He was either at Jennifer's side, doing research, or analyzing data. He had fallen asleep once or twice, but no one could get him to leave.

He hated looking Ronon in the eye and saying he had nothing new. He hated looking at Jennifer and not being able to help. He hated looking at himself in the mirror and feeling like he was failing people he cared for so much.

Carson asked Zelenka and Rodney for a consult. He was missing something in the data, he was sure of it and wanted to talk it over with another scientific mind. On any other day that would have been Jennifer. It was a like a punch in the gut.

Rodney was up on the warship for the last eighteen hours, but Zelenka was happy to help.

After forty minutes of findings and hypotheses Carson hit his breaking point.

"It can't go on like this. The answer has to be here. The seizures are making it impossible to see what the underlying issue is, and we can't get them under control. And they are continuous. 21:32, 02:50, 08:08, 13:26," he read the times of the seizure with an exasperated tone from one of the papers in front of him. "18:44, 00:02, 5:20…"

"5:18," Radek said mindlessly just loud enough for Carson to hear him.

"5:20," Carson repeated.

"No – I'm sorry. I wasn't correcting you. You know me – my mind goes to numbers." A hand gesture showed the convoluted working of his thought process. "The seizures are five hours and eighteen minutes apart."

"All of them?" Carson wondered, reviewing the page he held.

"All of them," Radek confirmed. But then his voice changed from observation to query. "Isn't that odd?"

"For a body to keep that kind of clock would be unheard of. Too many outside factors and systems that interact. The seizure onset should be impacted by blood pressure, blood density, relative temperature, endocrine production, metabolism… a hundred things."

"Well then maybe it isn't the type of seizure we're looking for," Radek noted.

"An outside cause?"

"Or a foreign cause," Radek clarified.

"The enzyme. It's got to be the enzyme."

"She had the enzyme in her before after the knife wound, and didn't have any seizures. So why would it be different now? The interaction with the Wraith?" That is why Carson brought Radek here. His questions challenged Carson to think bigger, or smaller, or just differently.

"No – I don't think so. There is no indication that the Wraith was able to connect in any way with her body. There wasn't a mark or a hint of Wraith enzyme. That whole question will be what I figure out once I get this under control."

"What do you know about the Herald Enzyme?"

Carson sighed. "Almost nothing. We can't analyze it. As soon as we draw any to test it, it immediately decomposes and her body compensates for the amount depleted."

"It can't survive outside her body?"

"No."

Radek's face lit up the way it does when an idea had taken hold.

"That, I might be able to help you with."

* * *

Ronon had already been with Jennifer for hours when the others gathered. Now that he knew exactly when the seizures were coming, he couldn't make himself stay away. Not that in the three days she was here he had ever wandered far. But he felt like she needed him most at those moments. So when the convulsions started and the medical staff held her down he came around to the head of her bed and talked to her. He gave her a countdown to when it would start. Told her he was there. Told her not to be afraid. Told her he loved her. Told her they would bring her back to him.

It was about three hours after the last seizure when Carson asked Ronon if he could come to the medical team room. John had joined them, and Rodney. Carson and Radek had been up to something for hours and they thought they had figured out one piece of the puzzle.

Ronon kissed her on the temple and followed Carson out of Jennifer's room.

As they walked, Lorne and Abatello arrived at the medbay. Ronon stopped for a second. He hadn't seen Abatello since the kill switch revelation. And so much had happened since then. Lorne pointed over in Jennifer's direction, clearly asking permission.

Ronon just looked at the two men.

John came up behind him and put a hand on Ronon's shoulder.

"He isn't a danger to her, buddy. And remember, this last time, she kidnapped him."

Ronon exhaled and inclined his head in Jennifer's direction. Lorne and Abatello took that as permission, and went to see her.

Carson brought the men to a series of screens that Radek set up and started to explain.

"So the enzyme is produced when Jennifer activates a gate with her hands. We don't know if it does it when she activates a DHD, but we know that it happens when she bonds with naquadah. That enzyme has energy to it, and the molecules of the enzyme begin to vibrate. Our hypothesis argues that vibration is what accelerates her healing capabilities."

"But not this time?" John asked.

"Oh no - her injuries are healing at an accelerated rate. There is no doubt of that. But we think we are seeing a side effect," Carson explained.

"I configured one of the sensors to detect the vibration pattern to see if we could learn anything from it," Radek explained. "And the results were unexpected."

"There isn't one vibration pattern. There are three." Beckett's eyes scanned the group of men, and he continued. "You're a pilot," Carson said, pointing at John. "If you have a vibration on an aircraft, you learn to compensate for it. Two and it gets more challenging. Three, and it is only a matter of time until the speed, strength and duration of the vibrations combined does what?"

"Tears the aircraft apart," John said ominously.

Ronon shot Carson a look that made him sorry for the choice of analogy.

"Except in this case, it's prompting Jennifer's body to seize and reset the timing of the enzyme vibration. And then it starts over again."

Carson and Radek had accelerated the graphical display of the vibration waves, showing them finally converge in the seizure and then restart at their previous levels. They were running it on a loop at high speed to simulate the five hour, eighteen minute cycle, but when Carson looked at the frustration and pain on Ronon's face, he killed the display.

Radek brought up a display of the live sensor data.

"That's going on inside the Doc right now?" John asked.

"Indeed. And we configured the display to show the different enzyme molecules with different vibration patterns in different colors," Carson explained.

Ronon came to stand directly in front of the screen. It was nothing more than blue, red and yellow dots on a screen. But it was Jennifer, and those dots were causing her harm. Now he could see the enemy and could do nothing to fight it.

"Umm, Carson?" Radek said, getting the doctor's attention. "The blue enzyme….."

"No, that ... They have been precisely steady for…." Beckett's voice trailed off as he looked at the data. "Now, that doesn't …"

"You know you aren't finishing any of those sentences, right?" John asked them.

"How is that…."

And with that Beckett left to return to Jennifer with the group of men in tow. He walked into Jennifer's area with purpose, startling the two Majors who were sitting with Jennifer and questioning them.

"Did either of you just see anything or do anything?"

Lorne shook his head not understanding the genesis of the question, but Abatello looked nervous, and everyone picked up on it.

"What, Major?" Beckett asked him directly.

Ronon flew across the room and reached for Abatello, but Lorne stood in front to protect the Marine and Beckett caught Ronon from behind.

"In a good way," Beckett clarified. "Something changed in a good way," and he put a hand on Ronon's shoulder to move him out of the way.

"Did you see anything or do anything while you've been in here with Dr. Keller."

"No – nothing. I just wanted to see how she was. Tell her to keep fighting."

"And nothing out of the ordinary?"

"No. Oh. Well, the dagger," 'Tello explained. "The Dagger from Talis. She's collecting them, the daggers from all the worlds on the Journey, right?" He looked at Ronan for confirmation. Maybe absolution. Ronon couldn't tell. "The Tribute Commander gave us the Talis dagger while she was unconscious and I had it for safekeeping. She likes them. I just – I just got down from the ship and wanted to bring it to her."

"Where is it?" Ronon demanded.

"I put it in her hand," he said.

Ronon watched as Beckett gripped Jennifer's hand around the handle of the dagger, careful not to remove it. His face was furrowed in deep thought, and then very suddenly, it came together.

"Harmonics," Beckett shouted out. "Of course. Harmonics." He clapped his hands on Abatello's shoulders.

"Harmonic dissonance and signal cancellation," Zelenka said excitedly.

"Exactly. The gates create a reaction. They make the gene produce the enzyme, but the enzyme produced from each gate must create a slightly different vibration pattern."

"But the gates are exactly the same. How would that happen," Rodney questioned.

"Maybe modified by location, proximity to another substance or star? Altitude? Topography? Gravitational compensation? I really don't know," Zelenka answered.

Beckett went over the theory one more time. "The Herald cuts her hand with the dagger, and the gate makes the enzyme that creates energy that accelerates healing. She has the dagger. When she handles it, the metal in the handle tempers the vibration until the enzyme stops producing when she is healed. There were three vibration patterns in Jennifer's body, but when she had physical contact with the dagger from Talis, it tempered the enzyme vibration that originated from that gate."

Ronon had disregarded the daggers. He thought they were just functional – a blade to draw blood to bond to the gate. And maybe just reminders – souvenirs of the Journey for the Herald. But they weren't. They were actually a safety mechanism.

Jennifer said that back on Keltiga, Mallan had told her to hold on to the dagger. What if he had meant for her to hold the dagger instead? What if the trip and the first bonding and her anxiety about the programming made her hear it or remember it or interpret it differently? What if in thousands of years of passing down the message the nuance was lost? Could it really be that simple? It was after he had placed the Ontera dagger in her hand that she had woken after surgery. Maybe this was the missing piece.

"When will we know?" Ronon asked Becket.

The doctor looked at the clock on the wall, and answered. "Twenty-seven minutes. If the combination of the vibrations of the enzymes is causing the seizures, then reducing the levels of any of the enzymes in Jennifer's blood will throw off the timing. The next seizure should be in twenty-seven minutes. If it isn't, we're on to something."

The tension was thick in Jennifer's area of the medbay as they waited for the clock to move. Ronan wanted everyone gone but Beckett, but he knew that wasn't right. John was his best friend. Lorne was like a brother to Jen. Rodney was a good friend when he wasn't being an ass. Zelenka had helped make a breakthrough, if that was what this was. And Abatello.

Ronon just tried to ignore Abatello.

They paced. They started at the clock. Some of them prayed. And as the time got closer, they prepared for the seizure as had become the routine. They lowered the head of Jennfer's bed. The medical staff got into position. Ronan rolled a stool behind the head of the bed. He sat down so that his mouth was close to Jennifer's ear, and he whispered to her.

He told her to hold on. That she would make it through this. That he was right there with her. That he needed her. That he loved her. He never stopped talking. Bud he did lift his eyes and saw Beckett, and everyone else staring at the clock.

No one else said a word.

And 13:08 came.

And went.

And Jennifer never stirred. No tension in her limbs that warned of a coming storm. No convulsions that tightened her body awkwardly against her usual grace. Just nothing.

Ronan exhaled, kissed her head, and looked at Beckett.

"So now what?"

But it was John that took control.

"OK people. Everyone to Dr. Beckett's conference room ASAP. Lorne, ask Teyla to join us. Everyone who has been on any of the Herald missions. We need to retrace Jennifer's steps and figure out what we missed."

There was a comfortable chair near Jennifer's bed. It had some padding to it, and a foot rest that made it an ok place to doze off when Ronon didn't want to be away from her. Everyone moved to the conference room, but when Beckett went to follow, Ronon stopped him. Putting his hand on the Doctor's shoulder, he pointed at the chair.

"You are the only person who had gotten less rest than me. Stay. We'll be back to tell you what we find."

Carson nodded his appreciation, and he settled into the chair. He was asleep before Ronon made it to the conference room.


	31. Chapter 31

"Alright," John kicked the group off. "Keltiga, Caledron, Ontera, the tattoo planet, the jumper planet, and Talis. That's where she's been. Did we get a blade in each of those locations?

"Yes," Lorne said.

"Good start. Now did Jennifer hold each of them?"

That took some more remembering, but in the end they were able to account for all of the daggers except Xeno, or whatever Jennifer had named the Puddle Jumper planet.

"Where did that dagger go?" John asked the group.

"I had it," Lorne remembered suddenly. They guy with no name went to give it to her something – it was wrapped, and I stepped forward. He handed it to me to inspect. It was the dagger wrapped in a cloth of some kind."

Ronon recalled the exchange. The man knew everyone was very protective of Jennifer. He wouldn't speak to anyone else, but he handed the cloth to Lorne first, Ronon had figured as a sign of respect. But Jennifer paid little attention to the gift and finished her conversation.

"What did you do with it?" Ronon asked him.

"I just put it in my pocket. She was already kitted up with a bunch of blades thanks to you, and didn't seem interested in it at the time, so I slid it into a utility pocket of my BDUs. She used a different knife for us to gate back to get the rest of the ATA genes we needed to bring the PJ2s home."

John's hand was making a circular motion to move Evan to the end of his story.

"Where is it now?"

"The Herald Lab. I thought that was where all of that stuff went."

"Go get it. Hell, go get all of them," John said.

"Yes, sir," Lorne said happily, and he was out the door.

Ronon was jealous for a moment that someone had something they could actually do to help her. Having no way to aid her was fraying his sanity.

"So that is one of the vibrations," Rodney observed. "But we have one more vibration and no more gates to account for."

Abatello said something – loudly enough to catch people's attention but too mumbled to be understood.

"What was that, Major?" Rodney asked him.

"She didn't only bond to gates."

Matthews snapped his finger and pointed at Abatello.

"The panel."

"Yeah," Tello confirmed. "The panel."

Ronon could read an uncomfortable memory associated with comment in the way that Abatello held himself, and it occurred to Ronon that he knew almost nothing about Jennifer's trip home. Between the cruisers and the Wraith and the seizures and the team being on the warship and Wraith patrols and clean up in the city, they had never gotten a full accounting of the second trip to Talis.

"Tell us about it," John instructed.

"When we worked with the Temple Guardians and engineers to figure out the ship, we had trouble getting power from power supply to power control. There was something blocking it. Looks like the Ancients put in a security feature so that even once everything was put together it still had to be initialized by a Herald. Dr. Keller had to bond with the power conduit panel to get the ship to turn on."

"Was it like the gate?" Ronon asked.

Matthews shook his head.

"No. I've seen that a few times now. This was much worse. There was so much power in the two NPMs, and it was like she had to pull it out herself and start it moving – like she was the heart of the ship."

"It knocked her out when it happened," Tello recalled.

"We didn't really think coming back in the warship was a great idea at first," Matthews said.

"Didn't want to play hero, Corporal?" John asked to keep him talking, but it was Abatello who explained it.

"We didn't know how else to get her home. She couldn't herald the gate in her condition, and in the end we thought the sooner we got her to Dr. Beckett the better."

Ronon was filled with anger, and he wasn't doing a great job hiding it. He knew that. He didn't really care. She saved many, he was sure, but had taken such risks with herself.

"But we have the Talis dagger," Zelenka said.

"There was another dagger," Matthews remembered looking at Abatello for confirmation.

"There was?" he responded, but then his eyes got wide and the question turned to a statement. "There was."

Abatello stood up and moved away from the table. Using his communicator, he opened a channel.

"Control, this is Major Abatello. I need you to relay communications to the Herald."

"Roger that, Major. Standby."

"Where was it?" Abatello asked Matthews while he waited.

"I can't remember," Matthews answered, shaking his head with frustration.

"Major Abatello, I have the Herald on comms for you. Go ahead."

John gestured for Ronon to join the channel, and they listened in as Abatello continued.

"I need to speak to Corporal Meyers ASAP."

"Right away, sir," was the response, followed quickly by a confused sounding Corporal Meyers.

"This is Meyers, go ahead."

"Meyers – it's Tello. Matthews and I remember seeing a dagger somewhere after Dr. Keller initialized the ship. One like the one she got on the other planets. Do you remember seeing it? Where was it?"

Ronon had told himself for days that Jen would be alright; that they would figure this out and bring her out of it. And now, so close, he was afraid to be optimistic. Afraid to be disappointed. Afraid. He feared so little. The sensation was new and unpleasant.

There was silence from Meyers and Abatello encouraged him.

"Come on, Meyers. Think. You're the smart one."

"The Herald Quarters. It's in the display case on the desk in the Herald Quarters."

"Damn it, that's right. How did I forget that?"

"Sleep deprivation, high stress, and very bland food," Meyers joked.

"Meyers, this is Colonel Sheppard. I need that dagger on Atlantis and delivered to Ronon and Dr. Beckett ASAP. I don't care what else is going on. This is your only priority."

"Yes, sir. On it."

It was just then that Lorne returned with the missing Xeno dagger and flipping it in his hand to grab the point, he held it out for Ronon, who let himself smile for the first time in three days.

* * *

Ronon kept his eyes closed when the medical staff came through at night to check on Jennifer. If he was sleeping, or pretending to be, they generally left him alone. If he was awake they just tried to convince him to leave.

He actually had been asleep this time. It had been a long few days.

Without motion or sound his senses awakened to a presence in the room as Marie came to Jennifer's bedside. It took her almost no time to run through the required health checks.

Jennifer was by all accounts fine, except for her larynx and the fact that she was still unconscious. They had been rotating the Journey daggers in her hand throughout the day, and had seen the enzyme levels reduced dramatically. There was just a small amount left, probably to accelerate healing of her neck, but the levels were so low that there were no other adverse effects.

Ronon cracked the tiniest slit in his left eye to see what Marie was doing. After the standard routine she placed her hand on Jennifer's.

"Time to come back to us, Dr. Keller," she whispered.

It always warmed Ronon's heart a little to see how well Jennifer was respected and loved by so many.

"And you should get some actual rest. Like in a bed." Marie whispered to Ronon.

He wasn't fooling anyone tonight.

The next time he woke he heard a new sound in the room. Quiet and slow. When he lifted his eyelids a hair this time, he saw no one new in the room. And then he saw Jennifer.

Her hand was making clumsy contact with the mask on her face. Ronon slowly moved himself to the stool right by her bed. He whispered to her as her eyes changed from blinking open slowly to wide with fear.

"You're ok, Jen. You're in the medbay. The Wraith are gone."

She tried to speak, but her first attempt was met with discomfort and a distinct lack of sound.

"Beckett says you should keep the mask on – that humid air will help you heal faster."

Jen acknowledged that she heard him, but took the mask off all the same. She sat up a little and tested her neck, gently moving it from the left to the right. Even in the darkness of the room he could tell she was still disoriented.

"Do you want me to get Marie?"

She shook her head.

He ran his hand up and down her back while she took stock. She let her fingers press against her neck to measure her discomfort. She contracted and released her fists and studied her hands for signs of shaking. And then, when she seemed satisfied that she was physically alright, she looked to Ronon and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed through a voice hoarse with injury and weighed down in emotion.

"No, no, no," he said as he raised himself from the stool and put his arms around her. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But," she started, but nothing else came out. She tried again. Her frustration grew.

Her voice was so strained. Husky and rough. The actual sound cut out, and in some syllables had no sound, just air. It was hard to listen to. And watching her distress, and her inability to express it hurt to watch.

"Jennifer," he said. "Every blow you delivered, every strike you blocked - it bought you time for us to get to you. You did exactly the right thing."

"Was so scared," she breathed.

There was nothing to say to that. He had seen the terror in her eyes as the Wraith tried to feed on her – the panic as she felt the air disappear from her body as her throat was constricted. And it matched the terror he felt, too. He had never felt terror of that magnitude in the entirety of his life.

She tried to return his embrace, but her left arm lacked the range required because of her IV. Pulling back from him momentarily, she looked quickly over the medical equipment at her bedside. Finding the IV drip the only one in her way, she removed it from her arm.

Ronon made a token protest that he should get someone to help her, but she was done before he could finish. The IV removed, she was free to wrap herself around his chest, under his arms, and cry. He could feel the anxiety radiate off her body.

For him, the Wraith encounter had been days ago. For her, it was as if no time had passed. He needed to give her comfort. Perspective.

Checking to make sure she was completely disconnected from anything that might impede him, he scooped her up in his arms. He moved to the chair that had become his bed and settled her down on his lap.

"You are safe, little one."

She nodded her head in his chest, but never loosened her grip on him.

"And your warship heroics kept many others safe, too."

She nodded again.

"And I love you. You are my whole world."

She looked up and gave him the slightest hint of a smile.

"Love you, too," she mouthed to him, and then settled back into his chest and fell asleep.


	32. Chapter 32

Carson was giving Jennifer final instructions as she mindlessly played with the mask on her face. Ronon knew the humid air it was providing was good for her, but he could tell that she hated it. She lifted it off her face to the side while Carson spoke, only to have Ronon put back into place without a word.

"In an abundance of precaution, let's go ahead and have you try to keep rotating through the daggers a few times a day. You can start to exercise and move around as much as your stamina can take."

Jennifer nodded, and moved the mask off to the side again.

"Probably want to get at least two hot showers in, too. The steam will do well for your throat since you'll be off the breathing apparatus."

As Jennifer went to nod, Ronon began to move the mask back towards her nose and mouth. Jennifer pretended to nip at his hand in her final warning that he needed to let it go.

"That won't deter me, Jen. I like it when you bite."

Jennifer blushed, and Ronon could hear the discomfort in Carson's voice when he continued.

"OK then. You are out of here. Go. Most important instruction, since you are probably only going to do a fraction of what I tell you anyway: NO TALKING. No sounds from you for two more days. None. No whispering, no talking, no singing, no humming, no," he looked from Ronon and his smirk to Jennifer and her blush, "anything. No sounds of any kind."

"How come I don't get those kind of discharge instructions?" Ronon joked.

"Because that, lad, is your natural condition. Armed, not talking and working out as much as you want is pretty much what you do no matter what we tell you."

Jennifer smiled, but was careful not to laugh. She gave Carson a thumb's up, and hopped up off the bed. She put a hand on Ronon's chest indicating that she needed one minute. He nodded and she disappeared into her office. When she returned she had thrown on a spare pair of clothes, and was ready to go.

Back in their quarters, he could feel the stress start to roll off of her. She napped briefly in her favorite chair with her feet up. Then she woke up. Then she crossed her legs. Then she uncrossed them. Then she looked at her tablet. Then she put it down. Ronon watched her. She didn't seem fidgety, like before. Just bored. And maybe a hint of stir crazy.

That hadn't taken long at all.

He was rubbing off on her.

She put her hair up in a ponytail and started putting on her sneakers. Standing in the living room she used her head to gesture towards the door. He nodded and smiled. Fresh air and some exercise would do them both some good.

So out they went, and he fell in behind her, like he always did; he always let her lead. She picked the path and the pace, and he followed admiring the curves of her body and the Marks on her neck.

And every step was filled with gratitude for whatever force had brought her safely through.

She was slower than usual, and winded earlier than she expected. When they got to the pier where they always ended their runs she was frustrated.

"It won't all come back in a day, Jen. Push yourself, but don't be disappointed. You will make progress."

She nodded as she considered his words.

They returned to their quarters. Silence was so easy for Ronon – he had lived it for so long, but Jennifer seem to struggle with the inability to express herself: to explain, to give comfort, to share love, to connect.

But Ronon had a growing need to connect with her, and he motioned for her to join him by their bed.

"No remember – not a sound," he said with a grin.

She nodded and closed her eyes as he laid her down above the covers and helped her remove her clothes.

Ronon categorized the sounds that came out of Jennifer when they were making love into four basic buckets. There were the 'mmm' sounds she made when she wanted him or when they were getting warmed up. There were the surprised sounds when Ronon did something she wasn't expecting and it hit her the right way. There were 'more' sounds he couldn't describe when she was building and she needed something from him to get there. And then there were the sounds she made when she got there - probably his favorite sound.

And they didn't have to be different. It could be something as simple as his name. She could say it four different ways and have it fit into any of those categories. It wasn't what she said – it was how she said it.

In truth, any of them were enough to get him hard or keep him hard. Hearing the way her body reacted to him was intoxicating. And addictive.

But even without that stimulus and vector check, he knew every inch of her body well enough to know what she needed. So placing a finger over her lips as one last warning to her, he set to giving her pleasure. And comfort. And love.

And she let her fingertips do the talking. They danced lightly on his skin as she gave into the sensations, the palm of her hand freezing on his shoulder when he surprised her by sliding a finger inside. Her fingers dug in and massaged his back as the need in her grew, and then her hand tapped on his arm when she crossed over.

People wouldn't imagine her to be so filled with passion – so in tune with her desires, or that as good as she gave of herself, she demanded as much in return. She was remarkable.

And looking at her, breathless below him, he needed more. He pulled back and stepped off the bed. Putting his feet solidly on the floor, he reached to grip her hips and pulled her to meet him. In one continuous motion he brought their bodies together and buried himself inside her.

And again, without sounds, and now with her hands out of reach, her body spoke to him.

Her legs wrapped around his body, letting her heels dance across his back as he set to a rhythm. Within moments, he shifted her hips to a new angle and pulled her right leg up across his chest giving him the friction and depth he wanted. When the strength and sensation of the new stroke hit her, her body showed its surprise – her leg extending, foot pointing, tension from her hip to her toe. He ran his beard over the inside of her ankle, and gently bit at her to relax her again.

He continued at an unrelenting pace, feeling the roll of her hips telling him that she was close – that she needed more. His grip on her hips got tighter as he gave her what she wanted, needed. With strength and determination he brought their bodies together in long fluid motions.

And then he felt it.

The way her muscles contracted around him. The way the inside of her thighs vibrated just the slightest amount. The way her breathing hitched.

There was no mistaking it when she released. She poured her whole body into it. And when he was sure that she'd taken every sensation she could, he poured himself into her with a release of his own.

He took hold of the foot that was at his shoulder and kissed it. Kissed down to her ankle. Kissed down to her shin. Sliding back from her he kissed down to her knee, and then her thigh. He stepped away from her and broke their contact long enough to quickly enter the bathroom and start a hot shower.

He returned to her, now up on her elbows, naked in just the twilight coming in from the balcony.

She was beautiful. And healthy. And safe. And his.

And probably even more so, he was hers.

He lifted her to her feet and kissed her, holding her in front of him, chest to chest, and then walked her to the waiting steam.

Doctor's orders.


	33. Chapter 33

Jennifer stood before the choosing stone on Keltiga. This was where it started. When she staggered through the gate months ago with Abatello she had no idea how her life was changing; no concept of where the Journey she was about to embark on would take her.

It had taken her to Caledron to meet people who had lost sight of all common ground, and then found a way to come back together. To Ontera where she had almost died, but in the end watched people's hearts changed with compassion and love. To the tattoo planet where she regained some of her confidence and her strength. To the Xeno planet where she saw people who wanted nothing to do with strangers still doing their part for the Ancients plan. To Talis, where she met people who persisted in the promise despite their world moving on around them.

And what did Atlantis have now?

Two warships capable of bringing destruction down any Wraith ship. The Herald and the Guardian. Jennifer had christened the second ship the Guardian in honor of the Tribute and Promise Guardians on Talis who had stayed faithful. They had a beautiful ceremony and send off, and Jennifer had them fly the ship right over Talaria, just so the people in the city could see the Promise was real and they Guardians had been faithful.

They also had guns that could take out Wraith with one shot, but only stun a human. Crystals that created dampening fields and rendered Wraith weapons unusable. New shields. New cloaking devices. New jumpers. Sensors that could pinpoint the location of Wraith. Enough power for everything they ever needed. And even more things they hadn't figured out yet.

Enough to turn the tide.

And oh, yeah. A CMO/ Herald who was apparently immune to the Wraith. Since no Wraith had ever tried to feed on her before it was impossible to know where it came from. Was it the gene? The enzyme it produced? Something that happened along the Journey?

She expected she and Carson would spend a lot of time trying to answer that mystery.

And now it had come to an end. A more regular life would start in the morning. No more heraldly things to occupy her. But it wouldn't go back to before. A journey like this one changes you, she figured. She was stronger. More independent. More decisive. More empathetic. She understood the difference between want and will a little better, and could read her own Will with improved clarity.

The only thing that would remain the same was Ronon. They were perfectly matched.

She felt his eyes on her from where he stood behind her at the stone, and just as always, his love and strength moved her forward and gave her wings.

It was time to fly.

And time to say goodbye.

"Keltiga, how do you choose?"

Mallan's smile was infectious as all who gathered met the end of the journey with pride and relief. And hope. Hope for a new future. Hope that although the Ancients didn't defeat the Wraith, that they had learned from their mistakes and had given the Lanteans of the future a better chance.

"Open the gate, Herald, if for no other reason than we hope that you will always return to us."

"So be it," Jennifer said. "The Ancients thank you." She came around the choosing stone and embraced Mallan. "And I thank you."

"I am to give you this at Journey's end, Herald," Mallan said, taking a small, fist-sized orb out of his pocket. "There is no way to thank you. You must know that. Your dedication and commitment will change the destiny of millions. But since I have no gift for that, the Ancients had us keep this. Just a memento from the Journey."

Jennifer took the orb in her hand. It had a good weight to it, and was perfectly sized for the little hands. Smooth to the touch, but on examination it was not one solid piece of metal, it was many sections molded seamlessly together and finely engraved with a design not unlike the tattoos that had adorned Jennifer's body – spirals and circles maybe vines of some kind. The designs had faded, but she still found them captivating.

It felt good in her hand. Comforting, somehow.

"It's beautiful, Mallan. My most sincere thanks to you and the people of Keltiga."

The walk to the gate had been slow, with many Keltigans there to say goodbyes and be a part of the momentous occasion. No one rushed Jennifer, though. Everyone seemed content to just take it in.

When they reached the gate, Jennifer stepped to the now functioning DHD and placed her hand on it to bring the team home.

But nothing happened.

She looked to John and Ronon, and then tried again, this time with two hands. Nothing. She saw Mallan smiling at her.

"This Journey has come to an end, child. You will have to dial it like everyone else now," he said.

"Let's see if I remember how to do it the old fashioned way," Jennifer laughed.

She stepped around in front of the panel and began dialing Atlantis. At the same time, Ronon approached the older man.

"This journey?" Ronon asked.

"I'm sorry?" Mallan answered.

"You said 'this journey' has come to an end. Are there more journeys to come?" He regarded the man carefully to gage his reaction.

"Whatever the future may hold for you, there is nothing that you cannot face together," Mallan said, patting Ronon on the arm as he had the first time they had met.

The sound of the gate connecting and event horizon opening caught the attention of the group, and Keltigan's cheered as their gate was dialed for the first time in millennia. But Ronon was still watching the old man.

"That wasn't really an answer," Ronon pointed out.

Mallan winked at Ronon, and said his goodbyes.

"Sometime you just have to see how far life takes you."

"Goodbye, my Herald. The Ancients thank you." Mallan said through a tear and a bow.

"It's just Jennifer now," Jen replied, returning the bow and giving him another hug.

"You will always be Herald to me, my lady. And it would make this old man so happy to see you again. Return. Please. One day come and see me again."

Jennifer took Ronon's hand, their fingers lacing effortlessly together. She looked around this beautiful and peaceful world. She was sure that she would make her way back one day.

"I am certain we will."


	34. Chapter 34

_Around six years later ….._

Ronon stood at the gate and waited. He was expecting the visitors around this time, and wanted to be there to greet them. Enough sunlight to get them back to town, and a beautiful sunset to take in on the way.

Teyla and Torren arrived on schedule, and Ronon's smile was immediate. He greeted Teyla with affection saved for family on Sateda, and Torren jumped into Ronon's arms. With tremendous balance, Torren maneuvered his six year old body up onto Ronon's strong shoulders, and held on for a ride as they walked back to town.

Ronon and Jennifer had left the Herald's Respite for a regular home in town only months after arriving on Keltiga. Respite was a beautiful house; a mansion, really. But it required a staff to run, and despite all of the love that Ronon and Jennifer filled the house with, it still wasn't the home they wanted for Allaria.

Allaria was only two when Ronon and Jennifer left Atlantis.

Too much had changed. There were too many friends heading to Earth for good. Too many new people in positions of authority. The agreements that had allowed them to be married and together and in Atlantis had been made with people who were moving on. They wouldn't put their future in the hands of strangers. There was too much at stake.

And not long after they came to Keltiga, and then not long after they moved to town, their family grew again. A son. A beautiful baby boy, who at six months old was safely asleep in his mother's arms when Teyla, Torren and Ronon returned from the gate.

Allaria began to cheer as soon as she saw them, and then whispered her cheer after being reminded that her brother was asleep. She threw herself into Teyla's arms, hugging her second mother and laughing. She ran to Torren and took hold of his hand.

"Let's go play," she encouraged.

Torren was eighteen months older, but incredibly patient and affectionate. They could be siblings from the outside looking in. They leaned into each other and whispered. They were up to something. They were always up to something.

Jennifer had a tray of food and some drinks out for the grownups, and the children squirrelled themselves away to Allaria's room.

"So how are you?" Jennifer asked.

"Well. Happy. It has been an adjustment, but a good one."

There was a hint of sadness behind her eyes, but most noticeable was an aura of contentment.

Teyla was no longer the leader of the Athosians. She had handed off that responsibility when Kanaan died. She wanted to be there for Torren, and needed time for herself. And with the specter of the Wraith receding more every day, she allowed herself the time she needed to step back and heal. And enjoy her son. And then, most unexpectedly, to find love again.

"When does John get back?" Jen asked with a smile.

"Soon. A few weeks."

"You should think about our suggestion again. It would be so great to have you and John and Torren here on Keltiga with us."

Just then they heard an eruption of unrelated giggles from the bedroom.

"And clearly Allaria thinks it is a good idea."

"We still have some decisions to make. We haven't ruled it out."

The door from the bedroom flew open and two smiling faces appeared.

"Grownup talk in here right now. Can you play in the bedroom for a while?" Jen asked the children.

"Kid talk in the bedroom. Can you guys talk out here for a while?" Allaria said doing her best impersonation of a grown up while smiling and giggling.

"Well, ok then," Jennifer said.

Allaria bounded over to her mother and kissed her on the cheek. Then she put the most gentle kiss imaginable on the forehead of her baby brother. She climbed up on her dad's lap and rubbed her nose against his, and then jumped to the couch where she put her forehead to Teyla's forehead and held that position for a few seconds.

She was so filled with love and joy. And not just that day. Every day.

Then she crossed to a small table against a wall that displayed a small orb. Her hands behind her back, she looked at it. Smooth, except for the pattern etched on it, and the perfectly fit creases where the panels that comprised it came together.

Her eyes got wide and she looked without touching until she had asked.

"Can we play with orb, mama?"

"Of course, sweet pea," Jennifer answered.

The parents continued talking as the children disappeared once again into Allaria's bedroom. The door closed behind them, they sat on either end of a small rug and rolled the orb back and forth between them on the ground, each taking it, holding it, looking at it, and placing it back before rolling it again.

"Can we do the star show?" Allaria asked Torren.

"Yeah, I'll get the light."

Torren turned the light out in the room while Allaria pulled her curtains closed as they made it as dark as they could. Then Allaria put the orb on the ground in the middle of the rug, and the two children came to opposite sides of in. Laying down, propping their small bodies up on their elbows, they looked at each other.

"Ready?" Torren asked.

Allaria nodded her head, and each of them reached out. They gently contacted the orb from either side, and the orb emitted a soft hum. The creases that were so well fitted began to reorganize, until a blue light emanated towards the ceiling. Then the twosome rolled onto their backs and looked up at the projection.

A ring. A ring of shadow in a field of blue light. It was made up of nine segments, and where two segments came together, there was a symbol. Each symbol represented a constellation. Torren had seen some of them in the sky.

"The ring we use to come here only has seven symbols," Torren told her.

"I know. And mama told me once she saw a ring with eight, but I never have," she replied.

Allaria's face was grinning ear to ear. She stared at the symbols as if she was committing them to memory. It was one of her favorite things about Torren coming to play. This game only worked when they were together.

She had been through a ring a few times, but not many. She didn't travel off-world much. But every time she did she was awestruck – the magic of a whole new world existing on the other side of the ring. A way to meet people and adventure and explore.

"I wonder how far a ring with nine symbols would take us," he wondered. "Promise me one day when we're older that you and I will go find out."

"Don't worry," Allaria assured him. "We will."

 **The End**

 _And that, beautiful people, is a wrap! Please take a sec to review and let me know you were here and what you thought. I still get the occasional review for the first story in the trilogy seven years later, and they all make me smile._

 _Thank you all for taking the time. I know this fandom gets smaller with time, but there are some really dedicated people out there, and I appreciate you giving the fic a chance. Feels good to have finally put the whole trilogy down, and am so grateful for your patience, feedback, and support_ _(_ **bailey.1ak** , _I am looking at you)._

 _And THANK YOU all for giving my words a safe place to take flight. Appreciate the PMs, the questions, the corrections, the conjecture, and the energy you all brought to the story to keep me getting through._ _And a special thanks to **hifield**. You are one of a kind. I got to create this journey, and make a friend along the way. -Kalli_


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